


Mark Of Darkness

by WraythSkitzofrenik



Series: Mark Of Darkness (Darkiplier x OC) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers
Genre: Dark, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hypnotism, Markiplier - Freeform, Shadow Realm, Youtuber - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-04 21:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 55,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WraythSkitzofrenik/pseuds/WraythSkitzofrenik
Summary: A young woman receives a spooky visit from someone unexpected. What will she discover in this journey into darkness?Darkiplier x OC





	1. Trick or...Tricked?

“Alright, kids, goodnight! Happy Halloween!”

My eyes lingered on the knot of children rushing down the front walk, each clutching a bulging shopping bag or pillowcase. I chuckled to think of the sugar rushes those poor parents would have to deal with tomorrow. Sure, I was helping it along by passing out Pixy-Stix and Jolly Ranchers, but I didn’t really care. No way was I going to get shaving cream on my doorstep like my neighbor two years ago. Raisins and granola bars on Halloween? Respect the holiday, honey. Kids at Halloween have no mercy.

I glanced up, pushing the neon purple hair of my wig over my shoulder as I caught sight of the clock. Nine o’clock. Curfew in an hour. Only a few apartments still had their lights on, but there were still plenty of pickings in a complex as big as ours. There was a sort of unofficial rule at Halloween; if you kept your Jack O’ Lanterns lit, you were still open for business. Eyes and grins glowed warmly in the night all along the sidewalks. Dozens of kids darted here and there, honing in on the places that held the best treats.

I smiled, remembering the nights that I would go out with my friends back home, my arms poking out from a tinfoil covered box, or trying to maneuver eyeholes in a sheet properly so I wouldn’t crash into a tree. My sisters and I were always crafty with our costumes, and I was glad to see that the trend still lived today. Lots of the trick or treaters I saw had homemade costumes, and those were always the most adorable to me. Especially the “scary” ones, like the Freddy Fazbear suit with the spring-tethered ping-pong ball eyes and egg carton teeth.

I bit my lip and grinned thinking of the new ritual I had adopted in recent years. In about an hour, all those costumed ankle-biters would be back home, all tucked in for the night, and I’d be free to begin. I plopped into an armchair and pulled out a book from the side table. Sure enough, the doorbell rang, tiny fists knocking in accompaniment, high-pitched voices chorusing, “TRICK OR TREAT!”

Shaking my head, I stood, adjusting the black corset over my velvet shirt again. Who says kids should be the only one to have fun on Halloween.

After they left, their newest treats resting safely in their sacks, I looked at the clock again. Nine fifteen. Groaning, I set the treat bowl down on the table, relieved it of a few Pixy-Stix, and wobbled into the kitchen. Costume be damned, these boots were coming off first. The wig was starting to itch, too. Crossing to the fridge, I retrieved a hard cider and a pewter goblet. Couldn’t hurt to get the ritual prepared. I kicked off my boots, shivering as my feet touched the chilly floor, and went into the study. My computer screen glowed softly, the Halloween screensaver flashing images of pumpkins, witches, and ghouls in rapid succession. I set the cider and goblet down and moved the mouse, pulling up an Internet Explorer window and typing “YouTube.com” into the address bar.

It was almost time.

As the webpage loaded, I pulled back the curtains, checking the sidewalk for any more kids coming. I frowned. The complex looked deserted. Jack O’ Lanterns were still flickering, but there was no laughter, no calls for treats or threats of tricks. Not a soul remained.

I shrugged, taking it as a gift. I cracked the cider open and poured the golden liquid into the goblet. The fizzy mist rose finely into the air, tickling my nose with the scent of apples and honey. I pulled off the wig and arranged myself in the rolling chair and scrolled down to my “Halloween Favorites” folder, clicking on the video I had chosen to start this evening. Buffering, waiting, ads (go away), and finally…

“Hello, everybody! My name is Markiplier, and welcome to “Phobia 1.5!”

I settled back in the chair, raising my cup in a silent toast as my favorite YouTuber launched into yet another horror game. I’d discovered Mark late in 2012 as I was fishing about YouTube looking for a playthrough of “Amnesia: The Dark Descent”. I’d heard about the game from a friend and it seemed to be right up my alley. Unfortunately, I’d been burned by biased reviews on games before, so I wanted to see what the game was like before I plunked down the cash for it. After sifting through quite a few “Let’s Plays”—some funny, some annoying, some downright boring—I settled on Markiplier’s. From there, I was hooked. He was so funny and out there, so different from any other channel I’d seen. I subscribed within a week. From there, I eventually found JackSepticEye, Wade and Bob, the Cyndago guys, and many others. Always, though, I came back to Markiplier. I could always count on him to brighten my day, get me through a tough time, and even push me to be more.

I took a long sip of cider as a particularly spooky part of the playthrough came along, and I thought back to another time I found myself spooked by Mark. No, not by the games he played, but by him. It was in one of his earlier videos for a charity event, “October of Terror”. The beginning of that video was…chilling. I distinctly remember that strange expression on his face. That face, normally graced by an adorable smile and a twinkle in his dark eyes, replaced by a leer and a total absence of light. His voice, too, had changed. If there was one thing I knew, it was that Mark has an amazing voice, smooth and deep, a singer’s voice tinged with laughter. In that moment, though, it was a bit too deep, too rough, and it had the wrong kind of laugh hiding inside it. The laugh you’d expect after something untoward happened. I remember restarting the video, telling myself it was a glitch, some kind of inner problem. But it happened again. And then, just like that, it was gone and Mark was…Mark again, going on about the good that he planned to do. But as I continued to watch, I couldn’t help but think of that face. Over the next few years, I would catch a glimpse of that face again in different videos, hear that smoky voice, and tell myself it was just Mark playing a game. Just a game.

Pushing those dark thoughts aside, I turned my attention back to the game just as the creature leapt out at Mark, claws out as the screen dimmed with red. We screamed at the same time, his degrading into a babble of fear, mine dissolving into a fit of giggles. I paused the video and covered my face with my hands, trying to calm my laughter.

_“Good trick, wasn’t it?”_

I froze as the husky voice cut through the room. My eyes popped open, the sight through the spaces between my fingers almost too unbelievable. In place of the stilled video was Mark’s face, taking up almost all of the window. At least, it looked like Mark’s face. There was something…off about it. His warm smile was a slash of cold white now, all teeth and no emotion. His skin tone looked like death, like an old movie in black and white. And those eyes. Cold, black, empty, a night sky with no stars. Slowly, my hands moved away from my face and a screwed my eyes shut, telling myself it was cider on an empty stomach. Pulling in a deep breath, I forced my eyes open.

The screen remained where I paused it, Mark’s expression wild and the creature coming after him. I shook my head a bit and tore open two Pixy-Stix, dumping the sweet powder into my mouth. The tangy sweetness pricked at the back of my throat and I threw back the rest of the cider to wash it down. The rush of alcohol wracked my body, sending a wave of dizziness over me. I leaned forward, searching the screen for any glimpse of the…whatever it was. Nothing.

“It was nothing,” I muttered, moving the empty goblet aside. I stretched to the side to throw away the empty paper tubes and felt a pinch as my corset dug into my hip. I’d forgotten I was still in costume. With a grumble, I reached behind my back, trying to grasp the tiny fasteners. For some reason, I found my fingertips slippery with sweat. At last, I got one undone, and another, sighing with relief as the corset loosened.

_“For me? You shouldn’t, really.”_

I yelped, leaping up from my chair in shock. “Who’s there?!” I turned around wildly about, crossing my arms over my shoulders even though I was still decent. I felt like eyes were everywhere, poking, prodding at my solitude. There was a buzz from my computer tower, a flicker from the screen, and the room went black. I screamed, sinking to the floor as the darkness pressed around me like an unwanted embrace. Silence stalked the corners of the room. I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe. What the hell was this?

Then, from deep within the blackness, a soft chuckle echoed through the room. It settled around me like smoke, going on and on, not growing any louder or softer. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, pushing down on my instinct to sob or shiver or show any more weakness. I couldn’t stop it all, though, and heard myself whisper, “Please…”

“TRICK OR TREAT!”

I jumped up from the floor with a strangled gasp. The light from my computer screen flooded the room once more, the video still exactly where I left it. A glance out the window showed me a bustling Halloween night, children still out on their candy hunt, shouts and laughter and innocence rising up in the night like music.

A flurry of knocking resounded through the apartment. The chanting grew louder, demanding I fill their bags or else.

“Okay, I’ll be right there!” I wheezed, pulling in great, relieved breaths. “No more cider and Pixy-Stix,” I promised myself as I rearranged my wig and made my way to the door, desperately ignoring the ghostly whisper behind me.

_“Happy Halloween…”_


	2. Threshold

The doorknob dented the wall as I stormed into the apartment, rain dripping from my long hair, everything sticking to me. Purse, keys, and satchel went flying onto the couch, the contents spilling out onto the floor. “Dammit! Not what I need!” I knelt down and fished under the coffee table and the couch to retrieve the lost items. Damn, I hated exams! Hell, at that moment I hated college!

I stomped into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, furiously drying my hair. No rain in the forecast, sunshine all day. My right buttock! I dragged a brush through the damp locks, swearing as a tangle jerked my head to the side. A twinge of pain deep in the back of my head told me what was coming if I didn’t calm down. It had been a month since my last migraine, right before Halloween. I didn’t have time to lie in bed for hours. Three essays and two tests to study for left no time for anything.

Peeling my wet clothes away from my skin was a chore. At least it was still warm outside. And it isn’t that I don’t like rain. I love rain. Especially when I’m warm and dry and not walking all over campus without an umbrella. I slipped into a soft robe and smiled a little, feeling my skin growing warm again. As I entered the living room, I noticed a soft light pulsing from beneath the couch accompanied by a soft pinging. Text message? I knelt again and reached under the couch. A particularly large dust bunny brushed my hand and sent a shiver up my spine before my fingers closed over the phone. I pulled up my messages and frowned. A Twitter update from one of my classmates.

“Markimoo just posted new video!”

I swiped the screen over and tossed the device onto the couch. It bounced twice and landed screen down on the rug. Muttering a few vile phrases under my breath, I went for my book satchel and retrieved an overstuffed notebook. I checked the test schedule I stapled to the first page. The essays were easy enough, so those could wait. I always wrote better when I could feel the blade suspended over my head.

With a groan, I accepted my fate, pulling a sheaf of notes from the middle of the notebook. Mathematics first, then biology. Blech.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, tossing back a few Alieve with it. The twinge doubled, seemingly agitated by my attempt to banish it. Taking my place at the table, I spread out my notes and rolled my shoulders a few times in a futile effort to loosen up and relax. I wouldn’t even be able to concentrate on my studying with this stress.

Sifting through the mess of scribbles and chicken-scratch, I finally found the page I was looking for. Crisscrossing equations littered the rumpled loose leaf. It would be a miracle if I managed to decipher my own handwriting, let alone pass with higher than a “C”. What did I need calculus for if I was going into journalism anyway?

My eyes darted to the corner of the page, finding a bright spot in all the jumble. A sketch of Tiny Box Tim waving at me. I chuckled. Doodling helped me focus in class, a little fun amidst the droning. Many of my other notes were dotted with doodles of various facets of YouTube fandom. A Warfstache here, a cartoon of Septic Eye Sam there. Once I’d tried to sketch a true-to-life portrait of Mark. I got one eye finished before I gave up. I should probably have taken some art classes this semester. Still, it was a nice looking eye—I just didn’t want to take away from it by messing up the rest of the face. Maybe one day, I’d get up the nerve to finish or at least add the other eye.

I got up and tossed my pencil down, knowing what I had to do. If I wanted to get any work done, I had to get rid of this stress. No better cure than watching Markiplier! Soon, I was sitting happily at my desk, laughing myself silly as I watched Mark’s newest video. I should have done it as soon as I came in! I could feel the tightness in my neck leaving, my nerves untangling as I laughed along with him. If only every problem could be solved this way.

All too soon, the video ended with Mark’s familiar farewell, inviting me back for the next video. I wiped the tears from my eyes and giggled a bit more. It always felt so personal when he said it, though he was saying it to millions. I’m sure a lot of Markiplites felt the same way. I gripped the desk to push away and go back to my studying and stopped. Surely a few more couldn’t hurt. Besides, the tests were days away! Happily dedicated to procrastination, I went into my Favorites and pulled up “A Late Night Drink”: the birthplace of Tiny Box Tim and one of Mark’s favorite “Amnesia” custom stories. One of mine too.

The dining room washed in candlelight, I pored over the looping scrawls, trying to piece together something that made sense. Numbers, intervals, equations; everything just smashed into a pile of nonsense. And to top it all off, the headache came back, a dull, knotted throb deep in the center of my brain. I pushed the notes to the side like a child in a huff and buried my face in my arms, the smooth surface of the table cold on my forehead. “Let’s call it a day,” I mumbled and reached out to pinch off a burning wick.

Suddenly, a dim light danced in from my computer followed by hissing white noise. I shot up from the table almost knocking over the nearest candle. They must’ve gotten the power back on. I tried the light switch in the kitchen, but the room stayed dark. Puzzled, I went to the TV, the living room light, every lamp I could find, each one failing. Well, having just the computer was better than nothing. But as I approached the desk, it hit me like ice water in the face. The tower wasn’t on. No lights blinked, the fan was silent. Nothing was on except the monitor, buzzing with gray and black static. I tapped the side of the casing, figuring it was a loose wire or something. When nothing happened, I grabbed it and gave it a firm jiggle.

Blackness replaced the static, the hissing ceased and gave in to silence that pressed on all sides. In the top corner of the screen, a bright, flashing cursor waited. I flicked my eyes down to the tower again to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Nothing had changed, the tower was still off. This was impossible. I wedged myself under the desk, reaching for the power cord.

Above my head came a soft ticking. Slowly I raised back up, staring in disbelief at the keyboard, the small black keys depressed by unseen fingers. Needles of dread prickled in my stomach as I read the screen.

HELLO.

My heart dropped into my stomach sending a wave of dizziness through me. A candle’s wick popped behind me and sent a jolt of surprise up my spine. The jolt went higher and slammed into my head, dropping me into the desk chair like a ragdoll. I clamped down hard on the urge to cry out or be sick. Breathing heavily, I buried my fingers into my hair, massaging into my scalp in a futile attempt at relieving the thunderous pain.

More clicks. The light on the screen waxed bright as more white words took up the dark space.

DON’T BE RUDE. 

The cursor blinked…waiting…

My heart thumped hard and fast, the cold sweat beading on my skin sending my body into tremors. My hands hovered over the keys, shaking so badly that I could barely position them over the correct keys. I don’t even know why I was doing this. Talking to…what? A ghost? Several times I mashed a jumble of letters, littering the screen with gibberish. Oh yeah, I’m going to be a journalist.

At last, I pecked out, “HELLO?”

I waited, still trembling. The cursor blinked a few times. I don’t know what I expected. My head was killing me, my eyes burning as I stared at the screen.

Click click, went the keyboard, and a chilling sentence that I once heard in a silky, dark voice appeared before me.

THERE’S SOMETHING BEHIND YOU.

As I finished reading, the screen went dark and another candle popped behind me. Against every instinct I should have, I swiveled the chair around. Shadows leapt from every corner of the room, snuffing out the candlelight and streaking towards me. I barely had time to scream before the blackness took me.

And then I was floating, senseless and inert in the dark, a faraway whisper snaking its way into my ear as I moved further away from myself.

_“You’re safe now…with me…”_

_..._


	3. Where...Who...?

The strange sensation of joining flooded my senses as my mind slowly woke up. My eyelids felt heavy, like someone fused them together. Fighting fear, I pried my eyes open, bracing my body tight against whatever awaited me. I might as well have kept them closed. An endless expanse of blackness stretched out in every direction I looked. The cool, heavy air seemed to settle on my skin. Empty space yawned under my feet but I wasn’t floating—more like suspended in the void.

Nothing moved, no currents disturbed the dead, empty air.

I strained my eyes to see anything, waited for them to adjust to the tiniest scintilla of light. Everything remained hidden in the impenetrable gloom. An unsettling thought needled at my mind. Slowly, I raised my hands up in front of my face, feeling a strange resistance in the air as I moved. Closer and closer, until I could feel the heat of my palms on my cheeks, feel the brush of my fingertips against my eyelashes. Still, I couldn’t see the outline of my own hands. Had I gone blind? What the hell was this place?

My breaths came in short, panicked sobs of air that felt too thick in my lungs. Then, something else occurred to me, something that made my last bit of courage shrivel in my heart. My chest rose and fell, and I could feel my vocal chords vibrating in my throat, but I couldn’t hear myself breathing.

_Oh, my God! Help!_

My throat rasped with the strain of my scream, but my ears did not respond.

_Hello? Please, someone! Anyone! Help me! It’s so dark! IT’S SO DARK!_

Tears streamed down my cheeks as searing pain like dirty claws shredded the flesh inside my throat. I knew I was shrieking, but not a whisper came out of my mouth or entered my ears. Despairing, I buried my head in my hands, my shoulders bobbing with silent sobs, my cries for help devolving into babbling pleas.

What happened next is something I can’t fully explain. Some strange instinct took over me. I raised my head, tears drying into salt tracks on my cheeks. Guided by a new insight, I moved my arms as if I intended to swim in the shadows. To my surprise, I managed to propel my body a little. It felt so strange, like moving through water without getting wet. Stronger and faster went my arms, my legs kicking against the thick darkness. Sweat sheeted from my skin despite the chilled air and my muscles screamed in protest, but I knew I had to keep moving if I was to escape.

After what might have been hours—or maybe it was only a few minutes—my fingers scraped along something. I cried out in surprise. After so long in this nothing, touch was a horror to my frazzled mind. Certain that whatever I touched knew I was there, I shrank away and pulled my knees to my chest, trying to make myself unnoticeable. Many moments passed before I got up the nerve to touch it again. Pressing my palms against it, I spent a few moments trying to “see” through touch. It was vast and smooth, the texture of toughened leather and by putting pressure on it, I felt it yield a little. When I let go, it pushed back at me, retaining its tension like an enormous balloon. I pushed at it again, harder this time. My fingers clawed at the wall, scrabbling for a grip. It pushed me back, and somehow I felt like it mocked me. My muscles ached, my heart a jackhammer in my chest. Despair began to creep back into my bones, stealing my strength. Dark air clung to my body, closing around me like a chrysalis.

I balled up my fists, anger rising in my gut. No. I would not be beaten. Renewed in my struggle, I began kicking, punching, gouging at the barrier, each blow chasing away more of the fear, feeding my rage and sharpening my will. On and on I fought, until at last a tiny hole, a star in the vast expanse, opened in the blackness. The light that came through it was dim, but to my night-blinded eyes it was a burning brand. Frightened by the profound change, I turned away, feeling the pressure coming back at me. The edges of the hole closed a little and I panicked, diving back into it eagerly. Thrusting my hands through the hole, stretching and straining the darkness open to more of the sallow light. The air on the other side was lighter and a little warmer. I laughed and cried as the hole opened wider, rejoicing at hearing the distant echo of my voice as it passed the barrier and left the void. Light beamed into my eyes, blinding and brilliant, beatuiful even as it stung them and sent fresh tears pouring down.

As my foot made its way through the hole, gravity kicked in. I tumbled to the ground, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing for impact. Thankfully, I didn’t have far to go, landing in a heap on a carpeted floor. A few dizzy moments passed as my body grew accustomed to the soft flow of the air, still cool but worlds better than before. Great sobs of laughter erupted from my lips as I curled up into a ball on the floor, curling my fingers in the carpet. Vertigo spun my mind in loops, it felt like someone poured acid down my throat, and my entire body throbbed with all kinds of pain. In spite of it all, I felt reborn—weakened by my effort, but stronger than I ever thought I could be.

Struggling to my feet, I opened my eyes, shielding them with my hand to ward off the glare. As my vision cleared, my laughter dried up in my throat and my stomach twisted at the sight before me.

I was in my apartment again. At least, it looked like my apartment. The furniture was all familiar, all the trinkets and décor looked the same as when I left it. Candles still burned on the table, pooling wax onto a pile of my notes. No remnant of the hole I crawled through remained. But the color was all wrong. No, there was no color at all. Black and gray, like an old photograph. Even things that should have been white were murky and dim. The candles disturbed me the most—the flickering flames were solid black, casting soft gray shadows instead of warm, golden light. Stranger still, murky shadows fluttered in the corners of the room, undulating like the unnatural flames of the candles. I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of this crazy mess.

Slow, deliberate clapping split the silence, the echoes snapping my spine into a solid column. “You’re more stubborn than I thought. Congratulations.”

That voice…so familiar it only took a second to recognize it. Baritone, singer-smooth, with that strange undercurrent of dark laughter swirling beneath it: a predator lurking in the depths of a calm lake. Its echoes filled the room, ebbing and flowing around me as I stood petrified with fear. Shivering, I turned around, expecting to be overtaken by shadows again. The murky shapes remained where they were, shifting in the corners. No one else was there, but I felt my nerves tingling, my senses sharpened by my stay in the void. “Where are you?” I demanded, my voice raw and aching, coming out a jagged whisper.

My answer came in a shadow streaking from behind my left shoulder, sending me diving to the floor. It slipped into the dark carpet, leaving a stain of inky black. Dozens of shadows followed suit, whirling through the air over my head, each one making the puddle of blackness wider. I scooted backwards away from it, fearing to tumble inside into a worse hell than before. When the last of the shadows joined the puddle, the oily mass rose up like a serpent, slowly forming a tall nimbus of roiling shade. Laughter rumbled within it, savage, malicious and deep. It grew louder and louder as I drew my knees under me and watched helplessly as a wide, white grin split the black, too wide to be human. Slapping my palms over my ears didn’t help, the laughter cut through my flesh and buried itself in my mind, filled my body. I felt the temptation to join in with the cackles, to simply dissolve into peals of mindless laughter but managed to restrain myself. This was madness and I would not give in!

“Boo…”

The ghostly whisper softened the wild noise in my head. Confused, I looked up. A ripple went through the dark shape and slowly it began melting away from the top down, rolling away to pool silkily on the floor like a cast off cloak. In its place stood a man dressed in black, tendrils of smoky dark wafting about him. He raised his head and his eyes met mine, a wave of shock slamming into me as surely as a kick in the gut. I knew him. Even in the gray wash of dim light and deceptively soft shadow, how could I not know him? My lips shivered, forming a name that I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud.

Markiplier?


	4. The Dark Mark

Markiplier? _Markiplier?_

Blinking rapidly, I gaped at the impossible sight before me. Shadows shifted and swirled around him, obscuring and revealing his features, but all in all, he looked very much like Mark. No, not a chance. There was just no way he could be here. Wherever _here_ was. This place that was not my place. This was a dream—it had to be. So maybe he _was_ here. No way.

I slowly rose from the floor, doing my best to control the swelling panic in my stomach. Stepping carefully backwards, I bumped against the table and immediately grasped the edge for support. My knuckles whitened and my fingertips ached as they tightened on the solid wood. “Who…who are you?” I rasped, swallowing past the aching thickness in my throat.

Mark-Who-Was-Not-Mark just stood there watching me, his face unreadable. His dark, almond-shaped eyes lazily took me in, up, down, and back up until they rested on my face, locking me into their shadowy gaze. It was difficult to maintain eye contact as those wispy shadows kept flitting about, but something about that blank expression told me I didn’t dare look away. An eerie grin split through the impassive expression on his face and he took step towards me, sank into the pool of darkness at his feet, and was gone. Gaping, I peered into the swirling blackness, unable to wrap my head around what happened. One of the shadowy candles next to me flickered, the shadow-light casting new darkness into a deep corner to catch my eye and turned me about, ready to face…whatever this was.

A smoky tendril curled over my left shoulder and flicked at a lock of my hair. On instinct, I slapped at it and let out a cry as it turned into a pale hand that wrapped my wrist in an impossibly strong grip. My mind told me to run, to fight, but my body remained firmly paralyzed. Trembling, I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared myself for some kind of attack. His grip lessened a little, then relented, fingers gently trailing down my neck. I suppressed a shudder as laughter brushed my right ear, erecting the hairs on the nape of my neck. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m hurt.”

The mockery in his voice boiled in my blood. He tormented me with mind games and pain and he had the nerve to say the word “hurt”! Uncaring of the consequences, I balled up a fist and leapt away, turning around swiftly to take a full swing at him. I watched his mouth stretch into a smug grin as my fist passed through him, rippling his form like dark water. My hand slowed as it passed through the shadowy illusion, like pushing through soft ashes. I expected to see my hand coated in the sooty blackness when I pulled it away. Remnants of shadow snaked through my fingers and vanished before my eyes. When I looked up, disbelieving, he was gone.

“Oh, come now. Did you really expect that to work, _Kitty_?”

My body went numb as the disembodied voice—Mark’s voice—murmured my old nickname. I hadn’t used it in years, not even online. Thoroughly unnerved, but determined not to let it show, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “Don’t call me that.” My attempt at sounding brave with my creaking voice made me cringe. It seemed to amuse him, though. Another chuckle floated past me.

“I like it, it suits you.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. So damn smug! “What’s going on? Where the hell am I?”

“Just look around. You don’t get it?”

My stomach cramped in growing frustration. “I know what it _looks_ like, just like I know who _you_ look like. But this is _not_ my apartment, and you are _not_ Mark.” I crossed my arms over my chest and coughed out a laugh. “Mark wouldn’t be such a coward that he had to hide in shadows like a _rat_!”

Silence fell over the room. The black flames of the candles froze and the slithering shadows in the room just stopped. For a while, my thumping heart was all I heard. I wondered briefly if I had just made a very bad mistake.

Then, a petulant “hmph” broke the stillness near me, making me jump back a bit. Where a grayed out copy of my reading chair sat, the shadows gathered again, but instead of streaking around like angry ghosts they just floated along the carpet in a rolling, black mist. The dark billowed up into the chair and sheared away, revealing the familiar figure again. Soon, the last of the cloaking shadow disappeared and he sat casually in the chair, one arm slung over the back, feet thrown up onto coffee table. Dipping his head a little, he lowered his thin-rimmed glasses and gazed up at me. One corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. No shadows moved to hide him this time. He just sat there, watching me. So still. How was it possible to be so still? Part of me knew it was a bad idea to be so close to him, but I couldn’t risk him disappearing again if I wanted a good look at him.

Mark. In almost every respect, he looked exactly like Mark. The shape of his face, his body, it was all Mark. But, like the room we were in, something was off about him. His skin tone was pale gray, his face shadowed with light stubble like strokes of black ink. That unkempt mop of hair was a shade too dark, thick as the shadows he commanded. The smirk on his lips would have been charming on Mark’s face, but on his it looked much like a scythe, barely showing his brilliantly white teeth. And those eyes…unsounded depths of black on black, the whites a solemn gray. There was a definite predatory air about him, a deeper darkness than just what my eyes told me. He wasn’t unappealing, I mean he looked just like Mark. And I’ll admit, I watched [#SEXYMARK](https://www.deviantart.com/tag/sexymark) a bit more than I’d like to put a number to, even among my friends. Would he match Mark in that respect as well?

A flicker of motion made me pause in studying him, and I nearly swallowed my tongue. Though his arms were still positioned comfortably on the chair, his black shirt was slowly, unexplainably, becoming unbuttoned. It slid apart, pushed by unseen hands away from…his…from his broad chest, dissipating into smoke-like shadows. There he sat, unperturbed, as if suddenly being shirtless was a natural thing to him. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, sending burning blood flushing up through my face. A strange noise struggled up and out of my bone-dry throat before I could stop it, something like an “oh” that got smothered a “huh”. Well, I guess that answered my question.

“You say something?” As if alerted to the change for the first time, he glanced down at his bare chest for a moment. Raising his eyes back to me, he let out a soft laugh. “Well, well, maybe I should have started here.” Mischief glinted in the depths of his eyes. In one liquid motion, he was out of the chair and stood toe to toe with me. He wasn’t much taller than I, but in that moment, I felt like I was back on the floor. His eyes fixed me in place, two pits of inky darkness, and he gently—too gently—hooked a finger under my chin. I stared at him, at those insanely dark eyes, felt myself trembling. Why wouldn’t my legs move?

Like a dash of freezing water, the realization hit me. I remembered now…those little glimpses I’d caught of him in Mark’s videos…the strange tales whispered in the corners of the fandom. Only too recently I’d seen that grinning face…on Halloween night. Though it was absolutely crazy to believe, I knew who he was, the only person he could be.

“You’re…Darkiplier,” I whispered.

The smirk widened into a leer, his teeth stark white against his ashen skin. Slowly, he nodded down, up, and down again. “Good job.”

Uncounted moments passed between us as I let this new revelation sink in. There was no sense in any of this! Darkiplier? The evil part of Markiplier that popped out to spook his viewers and torment his YouTuber friends? But…he wasn’t real, he was just Mark being creepy and weird. Shaking my head, I weakly pushed his hand away from my face, taking a few steps backward. “No, this is crazy. You’re just made up. Just a game.” I turned my back on him, burying my fingers in my hair, doing everything not to start panicking again. “This is a dream. I'm dreaming.”

“Am I? Are you? Is that what you really think?” A pale hand landed soft as a spider on my shoulder. I tried to jerk away, but he held me fast. “Well, I’ll tell you. You don’t. You know that if this was a dream, you’d have already woken up. You know the truth, and you fear it. I can feel it rolling off of you.” I heard him take in a deep breath, as is he were sampling a sweet scent. His hand slid across my shoulder, up my neck, and turned my head to face him. There was no escape from his gaze. “You can’t hide from the truth, Kitty.”

He was too close to me, his hand slowly increasing its grip on my face. Calling upon every ounce of will I had, I closed my eyes and wrenched away from him, stumbling back against the table, my retreat knocking one of the candles over. The black flame sputtered and sighed out, the absence of its shadow-light weirdly darkening the room. I regained my balance and grabbed the back of a chair, breathing deeply and slowly to steady my racing heart.

Darkiplier stood where I left him, his body angled from me, and smoothly turned his head to face me. His face showed no hint of anger or amusement or anything that could have given me a clue of what to expect. Even his eyes were unreadable, just that satin blackness swallowing the light in the room.

I scraped a chair along the floor, positioning it between us, toying with the thought of smashing him in the teeth with it if he got too close again. That thought dimly strengthened my resolve and I gripped the backrest hard, leaning over it to glare at him. “I told you not to call me that. I don’t know how you know that name, and I really don’t care. Now, unless you cut the crap and start telling me what the hell is going on, I’ll…” My voice faltered as he slowly swiveled his body around, tilting his head slightly lower, catching me with those glittering black eyes. I tried not to watch as every toned muscle moved sinuously together with his approach until he stopped in front of my chair. My eyes flicked down and back up, trying to keep eye contact and failing miserably. “I’ll…I’m…”

At last, a smile broadened his lips, wide and deeply amused. “Got your attention?” There was a flash at his side as his hand shot up and slapped at the chair. I expected it to go flying across the room, but it simply blinked out of sight as if it hadn’t been there at all. My support gone, I fell over with a startled yelp. Too fast to follow, he swept out and around me, looping one arm around my waist to prevent my fall, wrapping the other around my neck as he pulled me to him, my back to his bare chest.

Hyperventilating, my head spinning in a maelstrom of terror, I went limp against him, knowing that any move on my part would end badly. His skin was so cold, almost freezing, and I felt the muscles in his arms twitching against my throat. His breath felt like frost on my flesh as he leaned close to my ear. “Demand anything again, and you will regret it.” All the velvety smoothness left his voice, leaving it a harsh growl. “You have no power here, and you _know_ it.”

Time stood still, it didn’t exist to me. I’ll never know how long we stood there, the rise and fall of my breathing the only movement in the room. I realized what he wanted. Agreement. He wanted me to acknowledge my helplessness, my weakness. Swallowing hard, and hating myself as I did it, I nodded.

Abruptly, he released me, twirled me about, and sat me down in the chair that mysteriously returned from wherever he sent it. He strolled across the room to the reading chair, a blot of darkness sailing down to settle around his chest and back, materializing into a shirt similar to the one he wore before. He spun around and plopped into the chair, his face full of wry mischief again, his eyes almost friendly, but I could still see the simmering power in them just below the blackness. He smiled, sweeping his glasses off to wink hugely. “Well, I think things have gotten a bit out of hand, don’t you? We shouldn’t be enemies. Why don’t we take it from the top, as friends, hm?”


	5. Terms Of Service

My jaw went slack, unable to believe what he just said. What just happened? A minute ago I thought I was dead. I could still feel the press of his cold skin, the deadly strength in his arm against my neck. My heart was still racing, sending pulses of dizziness through my brain. Was he really not going to address what just happened between us? How could he turn that charm on and off so easily? My thoughts turned over and over in my mind, running from outrage to confusion and back again. I kept playing and replaying everything that had happened so far in some attempt at putting together the puzzle before me but coming up blank. It was useless to try to figure it out myself. He held all the answers. And if I wanted them, I had to play along.

I cleared my throat, still pained by my ordeal, and took a steadying breath. “Um, okay then, Darkiplier-“

 “Oh, we’re friends. Call me Dark,” he grinned affably. So at ease, so comfortable. It all seemed like a game to him. A game that I hadn’t been playing very well.

Time for that to change.

Determined to hold my ground, I made a decision within myself. “I’ll call you Dark if you’ll quit calling me Kitty.”

The corners of his mouth dropped sharply at my boldness, one dark eyebrow arching up. I crossed my arms defensively and tilted my chin up, plastering a look that I hoped was smug and self-confident on my face, because truly, I felt like neither and my heart pounded in my ears. It was tricky, but I had to try to pull it off. Essentially, he’d get what he wanted, and I wouldn’t have to hear him using that name so familiarly anymore.

At last, his mouth relaxed into another of those crooked smiles. “Fair enough. So what can I call you?” That surprised me. He somehow knew my old nickname without me telling him—I assumed he could read my thoughts. Why didn’t he just call me by my name? “And before you answer, I should warn you…true names are a powerful thing. Especially here, and even more so when used by someone like me.” His expression grew sinister, the thought of such power obviously pleasing to him.

“Cas,” I blurted, not knowing what kind of power he could have over me, and certainly not giving him time to think about using it. “You can call me Cas.” I cringed a little. All my friends called me Cas, so I was again giving him what he wanted. Damn it.

“Casss,” he said, his voice hushed as he closed his eyes and drew out the end of my name. Shivers coursed up and down my spine. Power or not, I didn’t want to think about what my full name would sound like in his voice. “I think I like that even more.”

“Great,” I grumbled, sitting heavily back in the chair. I unfolded my arms and drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “So you’re, what, some kind of demon?” I asked, managing a weak chuckle before he could answer. “No, I wouldn’t give you _that_ much credit.” In that moment, I remembered how Mark described his alter ego in a vlog a long time ago, what his evil side would be to him. Thinking about how silly it sounded, using that absurdity to give me strength, I gave him a sly, mocking smile. “Oh yeah, I remember… Mark’s emo vampire roommate?” I laughed again, flippant and harsh. It felt so good, I didn’t want to stop! “What happened, no one snapped at the poetry slam?”

My laughter dried up in my throat as shadows flared behind his back, spreading up along the wall like fell wings. It only lasted a second before faded away but that was enough for me. I shut my mouth and turned away, feeling a little faint as the blood rushed away from my head. I kept forgetting where I was, what he could do, and that spelled out bad things for me. Many silent moments passed while I waited for…I don’t know. Something. For him to speak, to move, anything. It was too still in that room.

“I’m the part of Mark that he doesn’t like to talk about. He doesn’t know exactly what I am—he doesn’t even know that I truly exist—so he describes me in a way that makes him feel comfortable. Oh, the lies we tell ourselves…” He trailed off, a wistful look coming over him. Casting his eyes into a corner, he beckoned to a cloud of darkness which promptly slipped into his hand. He studied it for a moment, like it was a strange creature writhing around his fingers. Disinterested, he waved his hand and sent it skittering back into its corner. “Our boy, Mark, has a strong mind,” he continued. “He’s done impressive things by reaching out to others, and I’ve managed to wriggle my way into some of those moments. I’m sure you remember them. Raspy Hill, for example.”

I swallowed hard, a deeply rooted shudder running up my spine again, just like it did when I first saw that video. To this day, I can’t think of another that unnerved me as much as that one did. Goosebumps raced over my flesh. “That doesn’t tell me much,” I said, pretending I wasn’t impressed with what he’d told me. “If you’re just Mark’s dark side, how are you here? And where is here? And why am I here?”

Dark held up both hands, waving my questions down with an amused smirk. “Slow down there. You shouldn’t be so curious. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’.”

A prickle went up my neck, his allusion to the old nickname quite obvious. “’And satisfaction brought her back’,” I fired back. “If you’re going to speak in cliché, use the whole thing.”

Dark’s eyes burned into me, his sly smile broadening. I clutched the front of my robe closed, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Satisfaction, eh? I can certainly oblige with that, Kitt… oops, my mistake… Cassss…”

My face flushed with heat, inwardly cursing his ease at getting me so off my game. In the corner of my mind, I recalled the gentleness of his finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. A chuckle escaped him, and my flush grew hotter. He could probably see that memory playing out in my head. Another possibility—one I liked even less—was that he somehow had a hand in that memory replaying itself at that moment. Frowning, inwardly fuming, I reached into my mind and brought the memory of his arm tight across my throat to bear, reminding myself that this man was a dangerous one, not one to trust.

“Oh, Cas, you can be such a bore,” he sighed, shaking his head a little. “Fine, but remember, you asked. Now let’s see, how am I here? To put it simply, I am a shade, a spirit of the Lesser Dark. Our power is the shadow, and our home is the Voidrealm. As our host grows, so do we, especially if they have a tendency towards mischief, like Mark.”

I nodded numbly, unable to keep from smiling as memories of Mark’s many pranks and tricks he played on his friends and his fans. Such a trickster. Then, a disturbing thought entered my head. Did that mean that every time Mark acted…well, darker, that it was actually this spirit-thing? Did he have some kind of control over Mark?

Dark seemed to sense my unspoken questions, for he held up a hand and shook his head before he went on. “Once the connection is made, the shade holds sway over the host’s dreams. What darkness we leave behind is theirs to use if they choose, and what they discard returns to us. We are not demons; we don’t possess.” A blackness passed over his brow as he spat the word “demons”. I’d have to ask him about that later. It faded and he grinned lopsidedly again. “Shades are far more subtle.”

His admission made me feel a bit better, but I knew he still withheld information. Swallowing past the dryness, I ventured ahead with my next question. “So we’re in the Voidrealm?”

“Close. We are in a small offshoot of the Voidrealm. Well, small is relative I suppose. But it’s mine, and I can mold it, sculpt it however I choose.” He glanced at a shadowy copy of a framed print of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” on the wall above the TV. “For now, I chose a familiar parallel, but later…” Those black eyes snapped back to me, glittering with secrets. “Well, I wouldn’t want to spoil it…”

Later? How much later? How long did he expect to keep me here? Part of me wanted him to tell me what he was hiding, all cards on the table. Shout it from the rooftops, I needed to know! That secret needed spoiling in my book! Another part of me, quieter and wiser, wanted to remain ensconced in blissful oblivion. I knew that the kind of secrets he kept had prices attached to them. Trying to quell the growing anxiety in me, I dropped my gaze to my hands. I studied them, finding the chipped polish on my nails absolutely fascinating. If I could keep my focus away from him, maybe I could sort this all out.

Have you ever been in a situation that is so foreign or strange that a detail that should be so glaringly obvious somehow escapes you? I hadn’t noticed until now…there had been so many things happening that I didn’t understand that it somehow slipped past my realization. The skin on my arms and hands, once pale and peachy, looked a lot like his—soft, pallid gray. The polish on my hands was dark charcoal instead of shimmering purple. There was no mirror in sight, but I knew a look into it would show a small woman with black eyes and smoke gray hair. It suddenly became harder to breathe, like the air had gone thin. My vision clouded at the edges as panic pounded through my heart. Was I becoming like him? Would I ever see my home again?

_“Relax.”_

His voice flowed silkily over me from across the room, carrying a vibration of power with it. As quickly as the panic began, it ended, my nerves unlocking all at once. If my hands weren’t already on the table, I might have slumped over it. I thought I was about to pass out, but instead a deep feeling of ease suddenly, inexplicably overtook me. It felt like I'd just taken a double-shot of whiskey - smooth, liquid heat sinking into my core. A quiet alarm went off in the recesses of my mind, screaming at me to beware. My nerves twitched awake, but I was too late. In a span of seconds, he’d blinked behind me again, slim strong fingers curling over my shoulders. “No need to get so worked up,” he murmured, his touch just firm enough to hold me, but I was too dazed to move anyway.

After a few moments, I gave my head a little shake, clearing the softness from my thoughts, “And…what about me? Why am I here?”

He gave me a slight squeeze before trailing his fingers up my neck, just softly lingering on my skin. “Well, you see, for a while, we worked very well together. He enjoyed playing with the darkness he could find, and I steadily grew by influencing his dreams. Lately though, Mark hasn’t been utilizing the gifts I offer him. Oh, every now and then, the mood hits, but it’s miniscule at best. Think of it like flexing one hand while the rest of you is shoved into a small space. Not acceptable at all.” He kept moving his hands as he spoke, gliding up through my hair. I knew it had to be snarled and mussed, but he never caught a tangle. “So, Halloween night, as shades can do—as all spirits can do—I took a stroll out from my host and into the Lesser Dark.” He gathered my hair up and laid it over one of my shoulders, bending close to me to whisper in my other ear. “And there you were, just waiting for me.”

Waiting? That made no sense at all. I mean sure, when Mark got a bit creepy, it was fun and kind of intriguing, but that didn’t mean I was waiting on his dark side to find me. And what about the millions of others who watched his channel, who were probably watching that Halloween night? “What do you mean, ‘waiting’? I didn’t even know you existed. Why me?”

“Because you can hear me.”

Confused, I craned my neck back to look at him. “Well…of course I can hear you. Everyone who watches Mark’s videos can. You speak through him, right?”

Dark gave me a look that you usually reserved for a child that tried to show how much she knows about adult things. His hand fluttered over my cheek, just close enough to feel the cold radiating from his skin. “Oh, so precious. No, no, like I said, we are much more subtle. That night, I sent a little message out to the minds of whoever was around. ‘Good trick, wasn’t it?’” His voice rippled clearly into my ears, though his lips didn’t open even a bit. It echoed in my mind, reverberating over and over. With a smile at my shocked expression, he dissolved into a stream of shadow, pouring over my shoulder and cascading across the table. They snaked around the black-flamed candles and coalesced into the chair on the opposite side of the table. Dark shimmered back into view, the shadow-light of the candles playing across the planes of his face. “And you heard me. My true voice,” he said. “That makes you a very…gifted woman. It’s the only way you could have found your way here.”

“What are you talking about? You brought me here. Through that…that abyss…that…hell…” Just remembering the deadening of my senses in that void sent a dank, sickly feeling through my stomach.

“True. But you could feel me calling you. How else did you know how to get out?”

With a frown, I mulled that over in silence. It made a slight amount of sense, what he told me, and in this craziness a small amount seemed like rock solid logic. But there was still something he was skirting around, the secret reason I was here, and it was time that question got answered. I gripped the armrests of the chair and pushed out of it.

Or I tried. I couldn’t get up. Looking down in a panic, I saw shadows circling my wrists, ankles, and waist shackling me to the chair. Frantically, I wriggled and strained against the bindings, desperate for something to loosen. Sweat beaded and sheeted down my face as I thrashed, high-pitched gasps hitching out of me.

Darkiplier leered at me and pushed his hands through the table, scattering it into black wisps and leaned forward, hands on his knees. In response, the chair I sat bound in began to slide forward along the floor. I dug my toes down into the carpet to stop the motion, but all I got were burned toes. In the span of seconds, we were less than two feet apart, our knees almost touching. My head drooped to my heaving chest in defeat. He was right. I had no power here. I could fight all I wanted, but in the end, he held the power, and that was what would get me out.

“What the hell do you want with me?” I whispered miserably, too tired and scared to play his game anymore. No sense in playing brave anymore. He knew how scared I’d been the entire time.

“Where’s the fun if I just tell you?” Dark’s voice held an eager edge to it, his smile triumphant and predatory, all teeth and no pretense. “Oh, but I can see you aren’t having much fun. That’ll change,” he crooned, lightly brushing his thumb along my chin. I gathered up the last bit of nerve I had and jerked my head away, lunging forward for a bite at his hand. It darted away like a clever bird and my teeth clacked together on air. A hearty laugh exploded out of him, echoing deeply through the room. “Naughty thing, aren’t we? Tsk. Tsk. And just when I decided to send you home.”

Hope welled up in me like fresh water leaping high. I know he could see it in my eyes—his ever-growing smile told me that. It also told me that an opportunity like this wouldn’t come again…and there was a catch to it. Still, I couldn’t pass it up. My voice nearly caught in my throat, a stuttering “please” barely making it out coherently.

Dark unfurled one hand beside him, and at once a small hole appeared in the air. The edges glimmered a bit, but beyond them yawned thick, immutable blackness. The kind of black that made the black of his eyes jealous. The weak light of the room seemed bright in comparison to the utter nothing. Slowly, the edges of the hole widened, eating up the material of the room. Tightening my grip on the chair, I looked up to Dark for an answer. Then, the answer came to me, washing over me in a sick wave of dread. I knew that darkness…the sensation of the clinging dark was far too fresh for me to forget.

“No…not there…no…no,” I chanted, unable to look away from the growing void. Tears prickled the rims of my eyes. I let them fall, skating down both cheeks as I quietly repeated my litany of denial.

“My, you’re a lot of work. There it is, your way home, wide open for you, and still you won’t take it.” Dark languidly raised a hand and stroked up one side of my face, startling me out of my spiraling panic. His skin was a frost burn against my tear-soaked cheek. As he drew back, I saw something sparkling on his hand; he’d caught one of my tears. His expression went blank at he stared at the twinkling droplet, contemplating it for a moment before it sank into his pale gray skin. For several long moments, he stood before me, eyes shut, like he’d retreated into his own mind. The black portal had stopped its steady growth, but it was still big enough to fit through.

When he opened his eyes, they were soft as shadows. His leer lessened a bit, less predatory and more calculating. “What say we make a deal, hmm?”

Catch. There it was. I knew it would come along. My eyes darted back and forth between the black hole of nothing and the twin pools of his black eyes. The terror of the unknown versus the devil I knew. “What…what kind of deal?”

He stood up lazily, waving his hand over the portal. It shrank considerably, drawing a fairly loud sigh of relief from me. “Ah, you’re interested! Good. Cards on the table then, Cas. The reason you are here is simple: I need a diversion. Mark hasn’t been calling, so I need to find a way to stay sharp, on my game. That’s where you come in. You are receptive to me, so it’s much like influencing a dream. The difference is that the experiences are far more real. It’s like an interactive game!” The level of actual excitement in his voice genuinely surprised me. He sounded almost like Mark did when talking about a new project that he was proud of. Remembering himself, he calmed and put his focus back on me. “Ah, but we can hash out the boring details later. Now the matter of getting you home. I could send you back through the void, but I can make it much easier…for you and me.” He waited for me to nod or say anything, but I came up blank, still stuck on the disparate emotion he just showed. Shrugging, he waved over the portal again, shrinking it further. “I will facilitate your journey here, bypassing the void, in exchange for your…cooperation.”

“Cooperation?” I croaked, my mind reeling with implications. And the vaguest memory of “Danger in Fiction”…

Leaning over me, Dark slid his hands over mine. “When you feel the call of this place, you will not resist it. Just close your eyes and accept it. It won’t hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I won’t come calling when it’s not safe, like when you’re driving or in the tub,” he smirked, the thought of me in the tub obvious on his face. That coy look vanished in an instant, replaced by the most chilling expression I ever saw on his face. “And if you think your feeble will can keep you away from me, just remember how easily I brought you here. I can take you, willingly or not, and you won’t find it so easy to make it out the next time. I’m being very generous. You won’t get a better offer.” He slid closer to me, pressing his cheek to mine, his cold lips brushing my earlobe. “And I will _not_ make this offer again.”

I was trembling by then, hyperventilating as his body pressed against me. It took all my strength not to pass out. The memory of the dead air and the loss of my senses assaulted me, clutching my heart painfully in terror. He had me, he knew it, and so did I. My head dipped in dismay, my forehead brushing his shoulder.

“Deal,” I wheezed, feeling the last of my strength dry up. The air in the room thickened around me, softening my frayed nerves. Dark placed his hand to the back of my head, gently twining his fingers in my hair. A small tightening eased my head back into his hand. In this position, I couldn’t help but look right into his face. He smiled at me…and I saw Mark in that smile.

“Close your eyes,” he said softly, running the tip of his finger along my collarbone, circling the hollow of my throat. The rim of my vision darkened, my eyes stinging with sleepiness. Danger screamed at me from the back of my mind, falling farther away as my eyes slid closed. My breathing deepened, my mind ready to welcome the sleep. “This might sting a bit.”

My eyes flew open as an icy jolt struck me right under his circling finger. My body convulsed with the force of it, like I’d been struck by lightning. My teeth clamped together so tightly that my jaw ached. I scrabbled against the arms of the chair, a scream trapped by my clenched teeth shredding my throat again. Just when I thought I would be torn open from within, the pain flew away like it had never been there, and I pitched forward into the darkness with a groan.

A new pain slammed into the center of my head sending me into a cursing recoil that nearly toppled the chair backwards. “Ow! Shit, shit, OW!” I groused, pressing my palm to the sore spot. Stars sprang through my sight, forcing hot tears up. Angrily, I swiped my sleeve over my eyes. Damn it, I was not going to keep letting him make me cry like this!

I froze as the realization hit me; my arms were free. Lowering my arms, I opened my eyes and scanned the room.

I was home. Really home. The colors were back and more vibrant than ever, seeping into my eyes in blinding brilliance. The candles on the table still burned, their golden light dancing in the room casting shadows that didn’t crawl or haunt the corners. A look outside showed gray drizzly skies, late evening light streaming in the windows. My forehead throbbed from my collision with the table, but the rest of me felt great. Wonderful even. No aching muscles, no fatigue, no scream-ravaged throat. I splayed my hands before me, laughter bubbling up as I took in my lightly tanned skin, the gleaming purple nail polish adorning my fingers. Jumping up, I raced into the bathroom, a fierce need to see my own brown eyes and hair overtaking me. It _had_ been a dream! And it was over!

As I beamed at my reflection, my eyes caught sight of something that slowly, steadily stole my smile. At the base of my throat, a small dark shape marred the once clean skin. It was a perfectly shaped black spiral, turning three times around. The kind of black that other blacks dreamed of.


	6. Into The Woods

A few days later, a gray, cool day blew in, for once not bitterly cold or rainy. It was Thursday, and that meant fewer, but longer classes. Three o’clock placed me in Philosophy class. Boring as shit, but it was my last class of the day. My pen swooped about the notepad, filling in the spaces between the scribbled notes with nonsense and doodles. The professor’s voice droned on, becoming white noise in my head. My God, this class would never end. I couldn’t even remember what this lesson was about. It’s amazing that no matter how much sleep I got, I never felt rested. It seemed like as soon as my eyes slid closed, the morning came right away.

The days had passed so uneventfully since that strange night. Just classes, crappy weather, and worry. Things became so monotonous that I was almost able to convince myself that it had all been a dream. But I couldn’t; the black, spiraling brand at my throat told me too clearly how real it all was. Many times I found myself absently stroking it, following the circling pattern with the tip of my finger. What did it mean? Was it a binding? A charm? Could he invade my mind? And why did he want so badly for me to come back? At least there’d been no dreams he could haunt…and I had no doubt that he could.

My head nodded forward against my hand, the scrawled notes dizzying my eyes. Oh, well. I’m sure I wouldn’t be the first student to fall asleep in a class.

The tiniest flutter passed under the flesh of my throat, a second heartbeat under the brand.

With a sharp gasp, I bolted upright, clutching the buttoned collar of my shirt. I could feel the gentlest pulse under my fingers. “No…” I whispered, a sick feeling creeping into my stomach. I felt the pressure of eyes all around me, heard the whispering shadows in the corners of my mind. “No…”

“Ms. Jolson? Have you something to add to Hermeticism in the second century?”

The prim voice of the professor cut through the static in my head, the reality of the situation becoming clear. The eyes of my fellow students locked onto me, a few of the more cattish ones whispering their varied theories as to why I was standing panicked at my desk holding my throat like I’d forgotten how to breathe. Wiping my brow, I gave the professor an embarrassed glance. “Um, no. No ma’am. It’s just…I remembered I…left the stove on this morning.”

A quirked eyebrow told me my story, though plausible, hadn’t been bought. But she waved me down and continued her lesson. I slumped into the desk and buried my face in my arms, hiding my burning face from prying eyes and titters, muttering curse after curse into my sleeves.

Ten minutes later, the end of class sounded over the PA. Snatching up my satchel, I bolted from the room, ignoring all questions, avoiding all eyes. I hugged my things to my chest and marched out into the cold day, making a beeline for my favorite spot on campus. In front of the theatre, an enormous live oak tree grew in the courtyard. When I saw it, I felt safe and happy. One of the oldest in the county, even the tri-county, it wasn’t so much tall as it was broad, its thick branches spreading out like a friendly embrace. Evergreen, it greeted me with its steadfast color even after all the other trees had gone skeletal. One of the thick, lower boughs swooped much closer to the ground than others, held aloft by a metal brace. There had been a week-long protest over the proposal of simply removing that branch. I smiled, remembering the soreness in my feet brought on by hours of standing vigil with my friends, cycling in and out of our classes in shifts. Needless to say, we won.

Most of the theatre students had scurried inside due to the weather, but a few still sat around the barrel-like trunk, murmuring lines, scribbling critiques, just enjoying what they could of the day. I’d have preferred it to be just me and the tree, but I couldn’t be picky. I needed some quality outdoor time…and some Markiplier.

All week, I’d avoided watching any videos from my favorite YouTuber. Every time I found myself in need of a giggle, I’d sit at my computer or snatch up my phone, ready to see that sunny smile and hear that infectious laugh. Just before I’d click a link, I heard that deeper, silken laugh in my mind, saw the glitter of his black eyes, and stopped myself. I wasn’t even sure that he’d pop up like he did before, and it hurt my heart to be afraid, to avoid something that brought me so much joy. Today, that would end.

Determined, I slung my satchel up into the crook of the low branch. Hoisting myself up into the branches, I found a good bough in the middle and dangled my legs on either side. I’d leave the low branch for someone else—nothing like having someone climbing over you to ruin the mood. I reached down and pulled my satchel up with me, taking out my phone before snuggling against the burls of bark. A nice knot worked against a tense muscle in my back, massaging away the tightness. Being up here, off the ground and comfortable, made the fears in my mind scamper off. With a happy grin, I popped my green worm earbuds into place and opened up YouTube. Quickly, I checked my notifications for anything new on my personal channel. A few newcomers stopped by to watch, but no new subscribers. No comments. I shrugged, not really too concerned. Maybe one day singers would take prominence on YouTube. I’m sure most of the Let’s Players I subscribed to never thought they would gain such a foothold.

I scrolled around until I found what I wanted: the cute little cartoonish icon of Markiplier proudly sporting the Warfstache. A deep sense of peace entered my heart, wriggling up until it beamed out of my face. “Fuck you, Darkiplier…” I whispered, clicking on “The Baby Food Challenge with Wade and Jesse”: a sure bet for laughs. Seven videos later, my stomach ached with laughter and salt tracks from tears of mirth stiffened my cheeks. I felt euphoric and light. Not once did a blot of darkness or a hint of lurking shadow interrupt my bliss.

“Ah, much better,” I breathed, my nerves soft and free. I glanced down to see the base of the tree empty. Chuckling, I realized that I must have shooed them all away with my loud laughter. Students had mostly left the campus, the bulk of classes over. I knew I should probably get home too, but I hadn’t felt this good in a while, and if I left it might go away again. Besides, it wasn’t so bad out here. A break in the clouds let a brilliant shaft of afternoon sun through the latticed branches. The beams were warm on my cheeks, the breeze only slightly cool on my skin. Deciding I was in no hurry, I removed my earbuds and tucked my phone away, leaning my head back against the trunk. Contented, I watched the dancing play of the wind in the branches, the undulations sending sunlight and shade softly across my face. Peace spread though my limbs, a yawn sighing gently out of me as I watched the sway of shadow and light…bliss and peace…

Too late, I realized the spiraling brand had added its pulsing to the lulling sensations. With every beat, I felt my eyelids falling further. My mind put up a brief struggle, asserting my will against his incessant draw.

_Just close your eyes…_

_No,_ I thought desperately. _No…_

_You haven’t forgotten our deal already, have you?_

His soft hiss spread through my mind, followed immediately by the memory of deadened senses, of hopeless darkness. My consciousness flooded with the nothingness, reminding me of the price of my continued defiance. The throbbing beneath the brand deepened, pushing away those unpleasant thoughts, bringing me back into the sway…shadow…light…

Bliss…peace…

Darkness…icy breath in my ear…

_Come along now…_

-

It felt like I hadn’t moved, that no time had passed between my eyes closing and opening again. As my eyelids lifted, the scene before me told me with clarity that I certainly wasn’t in the same place. I was still sitting in a large live oak, but the once gleaming green leaves were washed out with gray, the bark ashen and peeling. Instead of a college campus, a vast forest surrounded me. Dank, musky fog hung thickly in the air, and the sun had faded into a gloomy night with a meager sliver of moon hanging in the sky. Crickets and other nocturnal insects buzzed and chirped. Resting against the roots of the tree was a pitiful excuse for a flashlight. Looking all around, I carefully extracted myself from the tree, crouching low to the ground to scoop it up. Taking a deep breath, I shone the light around, trying to get my bearings. When it started to flicker, I turned it off. Chances of finding batteries out here were slim. There was no clear path in the forest, but the spaces between the trees seemed open enough to trek through. I set off, padding as quietly as I could across the crisp gray leaves. If he intended to put me through some kind of game, I’d best get on with it.

As I walked, the trees all started to look alike. I’d made few turns in my progress, trying to keep straight as much as possible, but I knew in my heart that I was hopelessly lost. Lost. I’d have to know my destination to truly be lost. I relied on the dim moonlight when it peeked out of the shroud of clouds as the flashlight kept getting dimmer every time I turned it on. What would I do when it was gone? There didn’t seem to be anything or anyone around, not even a rustle from some random animal in the brush, only the chirping insects. The emptiness let me know I wasn’t safe. Fear gnawed at my stomach and sickened my heart. Something was going to happen. Something bad.

And happen it did.

Slipping between a pair of stunted bushes, I caught sight of something pale just ahead of me. A tattered note had been stuck onto the rounded side of a large silo. A breeze picked up, rustling the paper with a soft whisper. I removed it and held it up to the flashlight, straining to read the scrawled black message in the poor light.

**HELP ME**

“Oh crap,” I moaned, at last recognizing my environment and the dreadful significance of this note.

The rustle of something behind me shattered the silence. I squeaked in surprise, brandishing the flashlight as I spun about. The light fell short about three feet out, leaving whatever was out there shrouded in darkness. Frustrated, I slapped the casing against my palm a few times. Something jiggled inside and the beam suddenly brightened.

In the distance stood a tall figure dressed in black, impossibly long fingers wriggling like lazy snakes at the ends of his thin arms, his face featureless, blank space. Time stood still for the briefest of moments, then, without moving those stiff legs, the figure slid along the ground in my direction.

“Shit on that!” I gasped as time snapped back into place. Spinning away, I ran in full flight, my arms and legs pumping hard, my heart pumping even harder. I was going so fast, so frantically, that I barely felt the ground beneath them. The beam of the flashlight bounced and wavered about as I ran.

My foot caught on a root and sent me sprawling. The flashlight went spinning away and I heard it crack against something hard in the distance. I hit the ground arms first, managing to catch myself before my entire face slammed into the packed dirt. Gulping air back in to my depleted lungs, I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my fists tightly. It was dangerous to be stationary, but my muscles were screaming and I couldn’t catch my breath. To my relief, the static faded away into silence. The moon pulled away from the clouds and shone through the branches in pallid shafts. My gut instincts told me that it wouldn’t last and I scrambled to my feet. Hopefully the moon would hold out until I found the flashlight again, if it wasn’t already broken.

The dying moonlight slid over something large in the distance. A building loomed right ahead, its dusty, dark windows flanking the sides of a warped doorframe. Next to it, something gleamed half-heartedly on the ground, still whole against all odds: the flashlight.

Fuzz and static blasted into my ears. I screamed and snatched up the flashlight, wielding it in a panic, unsure of where my enemy waited for me. He didn’t show himself, and I had no time to look for him. I ran inside, my footsteps bounced and reverberated through the air, alerting any and all to my clumsy escape. Not that it really mattered. Stealth wasn’t really a factor in “Slender”, just reaction time and the will to keep going. The static had faded so I slowed my progress and crept along the hallways, letting my flashlight lead me around the blind turns. I scanned the walls for another page, hoping and dreading that I’d find one in here. These narrow hallways offered me no sidetracks in case he got the drop on me.

Finally, the beam of the flashlight slid over a dull spot on the wall of reflective white. Whispers echoed down the hall, beckoning me ahead. From what I remembered about the “Slender” games, every note I gathered ensured a higher chance of him getting to me. Perhaps if I didn’t pick it up...refused to play his game…

But if I didn’t advance the game, how would I get out? I don’t think he’d react well to me quitting. Caught in an obvious trap, I glumly stumbled to the page and tore it down, keeping this crazy pantomime going.

**ALWAYS FOLLOWS. NO EYES.**

I crumpled it up and stuffed it in my back pocket, turning to retrace my steps. Left, right, right, left, and another right would lead me back to the door. The droning white walls were starting to feel tighter, shutting me up in enclosed space. Though it was just a ghostly copy of a proper forest, I was desperate to be among the trees and open air again.

A buzzing sound echoing from a distant corridor interrupted my progress. He was here. Somewhere. Those tiled walls made the echoes multiply, making it nearly impossible to determine exactly where he waited for me. I ran back to the last turn and slipped around the corner.

Slenderman towered next to the exit, his eyeless face burning into my mind, filling it with a blizzard of static. Screaming, blinded and deafened by the shrieking static, I ducked my head and sprinted past him. Long fingers grasped my wrist and held it in a frozen grip. Determined not to look at him again, I twisted and yanked away. His grip released suddenly, my forward momentum launching me away from him and into the open air. I ran and ran until the static cleared away, fading into the dead silence of the gray forest. Gradually, I let myself slow down, wobbling to a stop against a large dead tree. I laid my hand against it, feeling it solid beneath my palm. For a while I just stood there, letting my breathing relax and my heart return to normal. I glanced behind me and clicked the flashlight, dreading to see the form of Slenderman behind me.

There was nothing in the beam of light but trees and shadows.

My knees buckled a little and my hand slipped down the tree. Something crinkled under my palm. Whipping around in utter disbelief, I stared at the page pinned to the tree. What luck! I had three now; I needed five more.

A childlike scrawl depicted seven trees, a small arrow pointing to the top of the page, and a crude drawing of the Slenderman. “What the fuck…?” I pulled it down and brought it closer. The other pages had warnings written on them, clues to my survival. Besides being an advancement factor in the game, they told part of the story. This one had to as well. The drawing showed mostly pine trees, six of them, and one scraggly dead one. Nervously, I realized that it was a depiction on the immediate area. The arrow pointed slightly to the right, away from the dead tree.

Slenderman would be right behind me if this clue was true.

My stomach flipped and I felt my body turning on its own. A whisper of white noise sounded behind me. I fought the urge to turn and look and ran past the tree, following the direction of the arrow as closely as my whirling mind allowed. I passed the building with the tiled rooms and kept going. The bouncing flashlight illuminated an abandoned oilfield ahead, the tankers standing resolute like great Neolithic creatures. I caught sight of the next page barely holding onto the rusted side of one of the tankers. I hugged it to my chest for a second or two as if it were a priceless treasure, opening it as quickly as I could.

**CAN’T RUN**

I sank to the forest floor, head in my hands, despair taking such a hold on my heart that I could barely think straight. I was getting way too panicked. “Slender” didn’t even rank that highly on my list of games that scared me. Being immersed in the game itself now certainly made it worse, though. I needed a different strategy. I had far too many pages to find to keep flailing about blindly.

Then it hit me. That was my answer. I had been relying on my sight to get me through, when in fact my sight was what could potentially end me. If I relied less on my sight, perhaps I could get through this. I stood up, brushing the dry leaves from my clothes. Keeping my eyes and the flashlight angled at the ground ahead of me, I slid my feet carefully along the grass. My ears strained to hear any rustle of those pages, any clue that could lead me to my next goal. It was difficult to move along without looking around, but as I went, my hearing sharpened and I watched the shadows of the trees cast by the soft moonlight waving across the forest floor, letting them guide me through the smaller spaces between trees. I thought I saw a figure in the distance, and sidled behind a tree, keeping myself out of view. If I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me.

 _He can see me anyway_ , I reminded myself and waited a few moments before coming around the tree. What I saw made my heart ache a little. I was in a section of the forest that had been horribly gutted. Several trees had been lopped down a few feet from the ground. Their trunks were dead and gray, the spiraling rings telling a tale of life cut short. I remembered my beloved oak back on the campus, thinking about what might have happened to it if we’d just let them have their way with it. On one of the stumps, a page awaited me. Wiping the beads of sweat from my brow, I took it down and scanned it.

**NO! NO! NO! NO!**

A litany of vain denial repeating over and over flanked a Slenderman drawing done in desperate scribbles. Just past the stunted grove, a wriggling black tendril snaked out from behind a tree. My gut tightened up and I darted away, weaving between the shortened trunks in a vain attempt to throw him off. The forest just kept going in every direction. No matter how many turns I took, I didn’t seem any closer to getting out of here. I was losing steam—my muscles burned deeply and the cool air seared my lungs with every breath.

I’m not sure how long or far I ran before finally skidding to a stop in front of a tunnel. I peered into the deeper darkness, the high arching ceiling a shield against the comfort of moonlight. I shone the flashlight inside and debated going in or searching elsewhere. There might not even be a page in there. Then, the beam lit upon the tattered edges of the page on the opposite side, just near the exit, the words barely legible in the shadows.

**LEAVE ME ALONE**

“I wish he would,” I sighed and walked into the gloom, the flashlight weakening considerably as I made my way in. I reached the note, pulled it down, and jogged out of the tunnel. Something told me I was going the right way as I slipped around a tree, my eyes locked on the dusty grass. Static blasted at me from a few feet away. Not bothering to look, I turned on my heel and ran a few feet back towards the tunnel, waiting until the static quieted before turning again and continuing my path.

Two more. I was so close.

With a sad, anemic flicker, the flashlight went out. I smacked the casing a few times, but nothing happened. Hoping against hope, I flicked the switch a few times, shaking it violently. Nothing. The moon fled behind a cloud, abandoning me when I needed it most. “Shit,” I spat, tossing the useless tool to the ground, doing my damnedest not to completely give in to despair. My eyes had more than adjusted to being in this gloom. Before the light failed, I’d seen a large machine just ahead; an old flatbed truck. The twisted vines around the tires telling me it would be of no help to me.  Jogging forward, I caught sight of the page stuck into the edge of the window.

  **DON’T LOOK…OR IT TAKES YOU**

Tucking it into my pocket, I headed away to the left. Strangely, no static rose up to harry me, but I chalked it up to good fortune. One page left and then…I wasn’t sure. The game always ended with the awful sight of Slenderman—like all the struggles didn’t matter. Something in my gut told me that Dark wouldn’t let that happen to me, but I stomped down hard on that too soft thought. I couldn’t imagine him being concerned for me after what he put me through. Refueled by my anger, I shoved a thick tangle of branches out of my way and focused back on my task.

The moonlight shone clear from behind the clouds, casting its light over an old, pill-shaped trailer home. Another truck, a decrepit red pickup, hunched like a broken gargoyle in front of it. The last page fluttered against the warped door of the trailer. I slipped up to the door and pulled it off, glancing quickly over it. Another childish drawing of Slenderman with a single word…

**FOLLOWS**

A moaning roar shook the forest, a cry of hatred and defeat. Glancing behind me, I cried out in dismay. The Slenderman loomed in the distance, four black, writhing tentacles waving madly in the air, slamming into trees with incredible power. Branches splintered as he struck them. One by one, they crashed into the ground and began propelling him towards me unerringly. The static was deafening, awash with shrieks and sobs of countless lost souls. It was a teeth-grinding sound that rooted me to the spot for a moment. I gave myself a violent shake and fled, running as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I would go, how to get out, but I didn’t care. I just had to move!

It didn’t seem that I was making any real distance between us even though I was sprinting. My vision clouded with white and gray, but I wouldn’t look! I wouldn’t stop!

The sight of the high chain link fence barring my way slammed into my mind in a wash of sick dread. There was no gate, no exit! How would I get out? No! I hadn’t come this far to be stopped. “Faster! Go faster! Dammit!” I screamed almost incoherently, digging into the depths of my will to push me harder. Closer and closer I came to the fence and at the last moment, I leapt up into the air and latched my fingers into the diamond-shaped links, kicking my feet until I managed to wedge my toes into them as well. The metal dug hard against my hands, but I ignored it and began climbing. I knew he was still behind me—I heard the steady approach of the slamming tendrils—but I was too close to stop and check. I reached the top at last and tumbled over, hanging by the tips of my fingers. My arms blazed with agonizing fatigue as I tried to scale back down, but I missed a handhold and fell, bracing myself for a painful impact. I landed hard on my feet, the shock sending shudders through my legs. As quickly as my wobbly legs would let me, I ran away from the fence into the darkness.

I was out! I did it! Laughing and sobbing, I threw myself against a young tree, wrapping my arms around it. My chest hitched and heaved, I was so deliriously happy to be done. I won! _I won!_

“I WON!” I threw my head back and howled, my cry of triumph echoing through the forest. Laying my forehead against the tree trunk, I let my eyes fall shut, feeling warm tears of joy pouring down my cheeks. “I won…”

“Well done…”

The bark of the tree softened under my hand, silken fabric covering toned muscle. My heart lurched in my chest as his arm circled my waist and quickly pulled me closer, crushing my body to his. Gasping, I raised my head to meet those bright black eyes gazing down at me, amusement sparkling deep in them. A smirk slowly turned up the left corner of his lips as he tightened his grip on me, his other arm looping around my back. The moonlight glinted off of his teeth, the sparkle dazzling my eyes and pulling me out of my shock. Glaring, I forced my hands through the tight space between us and shoved against his chest. I couldn’t budge him a bit, but I didn’t care. It was the principle of the thing anyway.

“Let go! Don’t touch me!” I gripped his shirt and pushed against him with everything I had, which admittedly wasn’t much after my little encounter with Slenderman. “Get away from me!”

Dark didn’t relent a bit, neither did that smirk lessen as I struggled. He actually seemed to enjoy the fight, his eyes growing wider and more feral with every push. The arm around my shoulders pulled even closer, his hand shifting to grip a large handful of my hair. I hissed out a curse as he twisted it and pulled my head back. I froze, my chest heaving against him. He’d effectively taken control of the situation again. I couldn’t see him very well from the angle, but dark head dipped closer to my exposed throat, the tips of his hair brushing my skin. His cold breath bathed my flesh, and suddenly, the forest began spinning. I felt like I was caught in a vortex, much like the circling, spiraling pattern of that black brand. My head felt light, my vision swam, and I clenched my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to pass out in his arms. I would not give him the satisfaction!

Suddenly, we were both falling. The ground just dropped out from under us and gravity took over. I screamed and against everything I knew to be a good idea, I wrapped my arms around Darkiplier. Instinct buried my face in his chest, my sobbing screams muffled by his shirt. Searing cold air whipped around us, screaming into my ears, his reckless laughter cutting through it in peals of mad abandon.


	7. Give and Take

“Well, aren’t we dramatic.”

Our fall ended abruptly but without impact. Everything stilled around us. My eyes popped open, letting fearful tears spill forth. Where had he taken us? We were floating a few inches above the carpeted floor and the air was cool and still. Around us was that grayed out but familiar territory—the parallel of my apartment.

Dark lowered us gently to the floor and set me solidly on my feet. His arms were still locked firmly around me, holding me to his chest. For a while we stood there, his chest rising and falling under my cheek. I felt a blush heating my cheeks as his muscles rippled behind his shirt. My heartbeat sped up a fraction, and that made me blush even hotter. How did he keep doing this to me?

I craned my neck up and gaped at him, a wry grin spreading slowly on his face. His lips shivered ever so slightly, the corners twitching upward, like he was holding back laughter. The softer feelings that stirred in me blew away in that instant. Growling, I began wriggling and straining against his arms, trying to loosen his grip on me. “Let go,” I muttered, finally getting my arms free and pushing against his chest.

“And if I don’t?” His mouth finally broke into a lopsided grin, a barely audible chuckle escaping. “Whatever will you do to me, hmm?”

So smug! I screwed my eyes shut and dropped my head to hide the ever-darkening blush of my face. If I could just get out of this unwanted embrace, I could fight! I wanted to kick his teeth in, to pummel him! I wanted so hurt him so badly…to make him feel even a fraction of the suffering he’d put me through. Still, the memory of that first punch I’d thrown passing through him like smoke was quite fresh in my mind. Even if I managed to land a hit, he was too powerful for it to possibly make a difference. I stopped pushing and balled my fists against his chest, determined not to give in to the helplessness I felt, though my eyes burned with fresh moisture. “Just let go, dammit!”

To my surprise, Dark stepped away from me, holding his hands up harmlessly, but I knew he was far from harmless. He still bore that soppy smile, slightly showing teeth. I backpedaled away, to the farthest corner I could get to, and pressed my back against the wall. He chuckled deep in his throat, like a distant roll of thunder. “Oh, don’t be cranky, Cas. You’re home now, and the worst is over.”

His voice dripped with condescension, oozing with that smarmy charm. The urge to dash over and throttle him rose up in me, but I knew it would cause me more trouble. Besides, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. “I am _not_ home! And cranky doesn’t even fucking scratch the surface!” I yelled, my voice shrill and broken. Swiping the tears from my eyes, I grimaced as I saw the black smears on my shaking hands, the whorls of mascara on my grayed out, pale skin like the childish scrawlings on those damned pages. “God, I’m fucking losing it...” My voice sounded so small and timid it turned my stomach.

Dark just stood there, his eyes fixed on me with a strange curiosity. Once, he opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but he quickly pressed his lips together and shook his head. The sinking feeling in my heart fled, giving room inside for my anger, my irritation to bloom again.

“Asshole.” I huffed, lifting my chin with a measure of pride. “Well, what did it prove anyway? I won. You couldn’t beat me. Whatever you were after, you didn’t get.” With a snicker, I gave him what I hoped was a withering stare; it probably looked like I had something in my eye. “And ‘Slender’? Really, what a fossil.”

If my taunting touched anything in him, he hid it impossibly well. “I seem to remember you running a lot,” he countered with a snicker of his own. He crossed to the table and touched the wick of one of the extinguished candles with the tip of his finger. Immediately, it ignited into one of those blacked-out flames, sucking the light out of the air around it. His eyes slid to me, one dark eyebrow tilting up into that sly, knowing expression. Eagerness glinted in his eyes. “And the screaming…hmm, yes…those screams were quite delightful.” That cold stony feeling dropped into my stomach as his voice went lower into a silky growl, his eyes smoldering in the shadow-light. “I think I need to hear them again.” In a burst of feathery shadow, he vanished with a low laugh that echoed weirdly through the room, as if the shadows themselves were joining in.

Startled, I darted into the kitchen and yanked a large knife out of the block, brandishing it ahead of me. I crept around the apartment, my eyes shifting this way and that, searching for the obvious and not-so-obvious places he might pop up. The room wasn’t cold but I was shivering, the blade wobbling in my sweaty hand.

“Where are you, you creep?” I whispered, the tremor in my body shuddering through my voice.

A great weight slammed against my left side and I found myself half-engulfed by a swath of blackness, like the tentacle of some huge beast. I screamed in surprise as it coiled around my waist, carried me up through the air, and slammed me against the wall, my feet dangling just inches from the floor. I wheezed as my breath blasted out of me, but somehow I still held the knife. Clumsily, I slashed across the cloud of darkness only to have it whisk right through. A smoky tendril shot out from the center of the cloud and wrapped around my wrist, yanking it up and pinning next to my head, the grip so strong I nearly dropped the knife. My other hand slapped at the darkness, striking nothing. How could it hold me so solidly and I couldn’t seem to even touch it? Another tendril emerged to secure my free hand to the wall. My heels banged uselessly against the wall. Slowly, teasingly, Dark reformed from the shadow, the black tendrils shifting into his strong fingers gripping me tightly.

“Maybe if you can put that down and be civil, I’ll put you down,” he grinned, giving my wrist a little squeeze. On impulse, I spat in his face, the wetness landing at the corner of his mouth. He pulled back just a little, his eyes implacable and steady on mine. His face betrayed no shock or rage at my defiance, just maintained that impossible stillness, like no one existed behind those eyes. At last, his lips spread and his tongue darted out, the tip of it brushing the moisture near his mouth. The smoldering heat came back into his eyes, so intense I could almost feel them singeing me. In all his cold demeanor, they were the only spot of heat. Lowering his head, his face so close to mine I could feel the prickle of scruff on my cheek, he breathed into my ear, “Drop the knife.”

My spine went cold and solid as his voice slithered into my ear. His tone was steady and offered no room for argument. The vibration of power in his voice sent a shudder through me. My fingers trembled, moist with sweat, and my shoulders burned from the strain. Finally, I let the knife fall with a curse. A smile raised his cheeks and he moved his head up and down, nuzzling against my face. “Thatta girl…” Gently, he let me slide down the wall until my feet touched the carpet. He didn’t let go of my arms but pinned both to my sides. My muscles sang in relief, but that was all the relief I felt. I was trembling violently, staring over his shoulder blankly with barely contained panic. I felt like I wanted to scream, but if I did, I might never stop.

Dark pulled in a deep breath, his nose teasing against my hair, taking in the air around me. A deep shudder passed through me and I wiggled a bit, trying to put some distance between us. He moved his head back to look me in the face. The smile on his lips was possibly the most unsettling thing I’d ever seen—mirthless and full of wicked promises. He released one of my hands and ran one finger up my arm, soft and slow, tightening my skin with goosebumps. “Wh-what…what are you…doing?” I stammered, my voice stuttering as my body shook in his grasp.

His hand continued its steady journey upward, brushing along my collarbone to rest upon my throat. “Getting just what I was after.”

My stomach clenched, the sensations of his teasing touch a direct affront to my growing fear. I was getting lightheaded, my heart a race of irregular beats. A hard pulse under the brand answered his light touches, the unexpected shock of it making me cry out a bit. “What-“

“Ah, there it is…” he murmured, and his hand grasped the back of my neck. In the next moment, his face shot forward, latching his lips to the hollow my throat. I shrieked, anticipating the piercing pain of sharp, predatory teeth through my flesh. I braced myself for agony or oblivion, or both.

What happened was stranger than anything I could have prepared for.

Instead of the pain of a bite, I felt the gentlest pull at my flesh under the spiraled mark he’d put on me. A wave of warmth replaced the chill in my skin and my head began to swim. Dark groaned softly against my throat, his lips unbearably smooth. He let go of my other wrist and wrapped his hand around the curve of my hip, pulling me even closer to him as he gave another pull, drawing whatever pulsed behind the brand out of me.

“Ah…wha…” I couldn’t get out more than that before another wave washed over me, sinking into my muscles, my bones, and deeper still until all my strength went out like a candle in a storm. I moaned as my knees buckled and I slid down the wall. The room slipped and wavered before me, unfocused in my suddenly tired eyes. Dark let me sink fully to the floor, nearly senseless, and I managed to lift my heavy head to meet his eyes.

Despite the rapidly dissolving scene before me, I swear I saw a wisp of inky black lingering around his mouth like silken smoke…saw one black eye wink at me before I sank into the darkness.

“Until next time…”

\--

My eyes popped open, moist with tears and still out of focus. Color slowly leaked back into my vision as I came to my senses more fully. I shook my head, clearing out the last of the dizzying shadows from my mind, and looked about in bewilderment at the familiar trappings of my home.

How did I get here? When I went…wherever I went, I’d been in the old live oak. I thought I’d wake up in the same place, but here I was. What the hell was going on? And what the HELL did Dark do to me? My hand brushed against the spiral, the spot still cold from where his lips…Oh god, I could still feel his lips on me…

Blushing heat flooded my face, sending my head spinning in dizzy loops. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I closed my eyes, my mind screaming at my traitorous body. This was crazy! He was insane, a creep who stole me away and assaulted me! I shouldn’t be feeling things like that!

In response, my heartbeat thudded faster, sweat sheening my skin. No matter what my logic conjured, the feeling of that mouth still lingered…the heat in his eyes…

“NO! No no no!” I screamed to the empty room, slamming my fists against the carpet over and over. “Fuck, damn it!” My fingers clawed into my hair, balling it into my fists. The dull tugging pain helped my focus sharpen a bit more, calming the warmth still pooled within me. “No…absolutely no.” Gradually, my heartbeat slowed, my breathing grew steady. The fire in my cheeks receded at the last. I was in control again.

Then it occurred to me. My bag! It wasn’t here! It must still be at the tree. At least I hoped it was.

As I went for the door, the telephone rang like a scream in the still room. I stared at it as if I’d never seen the strange noisemaker before. Two rings, and still I just stood there. By the third, I shook myself and dove for it, clearing my throat a few times as I picked it up. “He-llo (ahem), hello?” I squeaked, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“Cassidy, what the hell? Are you okay?” It was Lila, one of my friends in the theatre.

“Um, Lila, hi. Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Why? Because I found your bag hanging on the tree out here! Your phone was in there! You never go anywhere without this, and I…never mind. You sound awful, sweetie. You been crying?”

I looked down, caught sight of my hand trembling, and saw the flashing number on the charging station. Eight missed calls. Shit, what time was it? How long was I gone? I heard her say my name a few times before I realized she was almost in tears herself.

“Oh, god, Lila. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. No, I haven’t…” I paused. This was one of my best friends. I knew she’d hear the lie in my voice. With a sigh, I took a shaky breath, quickly mulling over what I could tell her, what she’d understand. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been crying. It was a really, REALLY bad day. I didn’t sleep well last night and it carried over into everything. I just had to get home and destress, that’s all.”

There was a long silence. I could almost see her disbelieving expression, see her weighing whether or not to probe or let it lay. She sighed, and I knew she hadn’t bought it. “How bad is really bad?” She asked.

Phew, she wasn’t addressing the holes in my story. Not yet anyway. “Remember the Greek Society’s mixer in May?”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, times ten and take out all the alcohol.”

“WOW.”

Another long pause. Then I heard her snicker quietly, her voice muffled as she covered the phone to spare me from hearing it. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just…that sounds awful sweetie.” Snicker.

A smile twitched on my lips. It broke into a grin, and suddenly I burst out laughing. That was the most ridiculous thing I could have compared that awful experience to, but it was the first thing I thought of! Hearing me, she joined in on the other side. I leaned against the wall to prop myself up, the stress and fear from that whole ordeal flowing out of me in helpless peals of laughter. We wound down, both of us gasping and coughing. My eyes were fuzzy with tears but I didn’t care. I felt so much better.

I heard her sniffling a little on the end of the line, tears of mirth no doubt all over her face too. “Ohhhh, that’s better. Cas, please don’t scare me like that again. I still don’t know what would make you leave that bag behind, but…”

“Lila!” I interrupted, a glowing idea taking form in my mind. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. You and all the girls.”

Pause. “I’m liiiistening…”

“Game night, tonight. My place. You in?”

A happy laugh exploded from the phone. “Hell yes! It’s been too long!”

“Okay, if you can get a text out to the girls, I’ll get some snacks together. Tell ‘em Cas needs some bucking up and her girls are the cure. Tell everyone to bring a game and B.Y.O.B., okay? The tips haven’t been the best lately.”

At the mention of alcohol, Lila’s voice went steady. “Are you sure? You sounded pretty broken up. Will this help you out?”

I grinned, rummaging through my cash jar as I turned my plan over in my head. I did a quick check of my food, seeing what I had and what I needed. Five college girls getting together with booze—we needed munchies. “Yes, this will definitely help. The alcohol is secondary—I need my gallies.”

And I needed to brush up on my games.

Lila giggled a bit, clearly into the idea. “Eight o’clock sound like a good time?”

“Sounds good.” I agreed, stuffing a handful of my tip money into my purse. “Love you, Mama Hen!”

“Love you, Chickydoo.”

The line went silent and I hung up the phone.

“Until next time, indeed.” I muttered with a smirk, feeling more like myself than I had in a few days. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I left the apartment. Whenever this “next time” came about, I’d be ready.


	8. Playing Games

A puff of steam clouded the air as I exited the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and feeling awesome. The only thing on my mind were my girls and all the fun we would be having soon. I pulled on my PJs and ruffled my hair with a towel, giving a quick glance to the clock. Ten minutes or so.

I sighed happily as I took in the sight of bowls of snacks littering the table, chairs around the TV and the computer to allow for everyone to get in on the action. We were never picky when it came to games. A little XBOX, Playstation, and a lot of PC games made up our collective repertoire. The types of games were varied as well, but tonight, I was counting on them bringing one type: horror. I doubted very much that Dark’s little escapades would include anything like Spore or Skyrim.

Snorting, I pushed the memory of his rolling laugh and his smug face as far back as I could. Tonight was not about him, it was about me and my girls. A tiny stab pricked at my heart as I realized what a lie that was. The only reason I was hosting this game night was to get a leg up on whatever that psycho might have in store for me. I frowned, picking at a few pills on my red flannel pants. Was I really going to use my friends just to get an advantage that might not even aid me?

A knock at the door took me out of my reverie. Oops. Early birds. Grabbing a brush, I ran it through my hair a few times as I answered the door. _I’m not using them, they’re aiding me,_ I asserted silently, giving myself a little comfort for what it was worth.

Lila’s beaming face greeted me when I opened the door, her blue eyes sparkling like a sunlit sky. Her red hair curled down her shoulders like waves of fire. In her hands were a six-pack of hard cider and a stack of games. “Chickydoo!”

I laughed and threw my arms around her, careful not to dislodge her cargo. I felt like I hadn’t seen her in a lifetime, even though we shared two classes every other day. “My Mama Hen!” I gushed, nuzzling my face into hers, reveling in her laugh. God, it felt amazing to hear a laugh that didn’t hold an undercurrent of sly wickedness. “Come in, let’s get set up!”

Within twenty minutes, the apartment was a bustle with joy and noise and fun. Hannah and Meg showed up next, the roommates carrying a bottle each: coconut rum and cinnamon whiskey. They helped Lila and me finish putting the varied snacks into bowls. The last to show was Georgia, but we didn’t hold it against her; she brought pizzas.

“I was able to get these bad boys out just before my shift ended,” she beamed, placing the stack of steaming boxes on the table.

“Oh, you’re sweet! Thanks!” I motioned everyone over and handed out plates. "Okay, spread the games out here—PC on the right, consoles on the left.”

“First things first!” Hannah grinned, grabbing a handful of plastic shot glasses. “The first shot that is.”

We each grabbed a glass and poured out the liquor. I let the sweet, spicy scent of the whiskey tickle my nose, the smell hot and head-lightening. Tossing it back, I groaned as the delicious tingles spread through my limbs. A small drop escaped the glass and trickled down my neck. I wiped it away with the edge of my shirt collar. “Oh, that was nice. Okay, ladies, grab a plate and…what?”

My words were interrupted by Hannah leaning close to me, squinting her eyes like she was trying to decipher an age-old mystery. “Holy crap! Cas, you got a tattoo!”

All eyes riveted onto me, shock and awe in ever pair. I laughed, finding it absolutely ridiculous that they would ever think I would do something that stupid. Especially me, the girl with the biggest fear of needles ever! “What? You’re crazy, I didn’t-“

Then it dawned on me what they were talking about. I’d been having such a good time, I’d forgotten about it completely. Panicked, I slapped a hand over my throat, covering the small but so obvious brand on my skin. “Ohhh…shit…”

Lila looked absolutely horrified at my expression. “Cas, you look pale. What happened?”

My mind raced in a mad jumble. How could I be so foolish? I should have worn something to hide it better, but then again, was I so foolish to think that they really wouldn’t notice? Well, it was out now, so what would I say? What _could_ I say? “I, uh….I um…”

Georgia scooted closer, moving my hand away gently to peer at the swirling design. “It’s really cute,” she offered genuinely, obviously seeing my nervousness as a fear of disapproval. “I like it! That is a really good black too.” She rolled up her sleeve, exposing a faded tattoo of “Carpe Diem” in calligraphy. “This one was never that pure black. At best it started off like mud,” she giggled.

I let a stuttering laugh go free, slowly becoming aware that my fingertip was lightly tracing the spiral. With more than a little effort, I let my hand drop from it. “Well, what can I say? A drunken night alone gives you an excuse to do stupid things…”

At my “admission”, Georgia, Hannah, and Meg all laughed and nodded, throwing up stories of their own tipsy exploits all at once. Only Lila remained serious, eyeing the mark and my face with incredulity. I gulped hard, hoping that we could all get enough fun and booze into ourselves that she might let it all slide.

In an apparent answer to the discomfort she saw clearly, Lila clapped her hands together loudly. “Okay, enough of our past drunken exploits!” She said cheerily. “Let’s get to tonight’s. We came together to play stupid games and have too much fun.”

Breathing a long sigh of relief, I smiled at her, burying the lingering traces of nerves under the love of my girls. “Amen! Okay, let’s see what we have.”

In mere minutes, we were crowded around the computer, eating, drinking, and watching Georgia tackle about a half hour of Amnesia: The Dark Descent. Lila, never a fan of games where you couldn’t fight back, sat bound up in a tight ball in her chair, knees to chest. I leaned forward intently, watching Georgia expertly avoid the creatures and hazards, mentally jotting down every strategy in my head. Once in a while, she allowed a jumpscare to occur, if only to hear Hannah “hit the high notes” as she was fond of saying. Each time a scare caught us off guard, the rule was we had to take a shot. Thankfully, I kept pitchers of water and iced tea around for an instant chaser. We wanted to have fun, not hangovers.

“O-okay,” Hannah hiccupped between laughs. “I’d say that’s enough of that one. Let’s hit up some Outlast!”

I grimaced as I took a swig of cider. That was a game that really turned my stomach. So much depravity and panicked running. I wasn’t horrible at it, but I kind of hated it.

Dark would enjoy exposing me to that one.

“I’ll take that one! Let me at ‘em!” I said with the biggest dose of false enthusiasm. The girls cheered me on as I sat in the desk chair and started the game.

Ten minutes was all it took to make me throw off the headphones and strut away from the desk with a stream of “nopes”. The girls’ teasing, good-natured laughter followed me as I went into the kitchen for another bag of chips. Shaking my head, I trudged back in, snacks in hand and gestured to Hannah. She was the one who always outlasted anyway. With an excited giggle, the blond scooted into the chair and continued the game. I still couldn’t watch for long without a healthy dose of the heebie-jeebies, but it was easier to watch than play.

The chain of games went on for a few hours, each one becoming less and less horrific and more hilarious with each sip, shot, and chug. I wasn’t even watching the gameplay anymore, so lost in the lovely swimming feeling in my head.

“Ooookay guys, I think I’m all gamed out,” I murmured, my words slurring just a bit. I grabbed a glass of tea and sipped it carefully. “How’s about a movie?”

Hannah’s brown eyes lit up, a mischievous smile on her lips. “I’ve got something better. Markiplier drinking game!”

I quirked an eyebrow at my friend. “A what-what now?” I asked, fiddling with the rim of my glass.

“I heard about it on Twitter. You watch a bunch of videos and assign drinks for every…uh…every…well, different things, I guess.”

Meg piped up first. “I know! Every time Mark says ‘cool’, you take a shot!”

Lila guffawed as she took a sip of her drink, a bit of it dribbling down her chin. “Oh, God no, are you kidding? We’ll all be shitfaced in ten minutes!”

That got a laugh out of all of us. Snorts, giggles, and snickers echoed in the apartment. I gasped and chuckled, trying to catch my breath. “Okay, how about sips then? ‘Cool’ nets you a sip.”

I was met with nods of agreement, followed by a cacophony of other suggestions, which I quickly wrote down. Screams were a three-second drink, a rage a full drink, and so on. “Uh-huh, alright, I think that’s good. Now, we need a playlist.” I grinned as another barrage of suggestions came at me. This was going to be a fun night indeed.

“No time to waste ladies!”

\--

“Oh, wow. Georgia is so smashed,” Lila tittered, gently pulling a blanket over the sleeping girl on the couch. She smoothed the mop of curly black hair away from her face and tucked the throw around her shoulders. “Night kiddo,” she whispered, her words flowing together in the warmth of the alcohol.

I grinned, feeling that delightful lightness in my head. Meg and Hannah had left a short while ago, making the short walk back to their apartment. Georgia, as Lila said, had taken a few drinks out of turn from the game, so she had no objections to crashing on my couch. In no time she was flat out. Lila and I weren’t as completely gone, but I was close. The floor felt like it dropped and rose in three or four places as I walked to Lila and looped my arms around her shoulders. “Good ol’ Mama Hen,” I murmured, snuggling into her back. What a wonderful night! I laughed, I learned, and I spent quality time with my girls. And the Markiplier drinking game! That was something we would definitely have to revisit.

“Too good for a lot, not good enough for you,” she replied and untangled my arms from her. She led me to the snacks and poured us each a glass of water. I didn’t touch it but grabbed a small slice of pizza and nibbled on the crust. She downed her glass and set it on the table. “But now, it’s time to get serious. What was tonight really about?”

I froze halfway into a bit and stared in shock into her face. Her eyes were clearly intoxicated and gentle, but the rest of her face was set in stone. Dammit, I forgot the two most dangerous things about us getting drunk together; she got bold and I got chatty. I set the pizza down and wiped my fingers off on my pants, nervousness setting in, quashing my attempts at keeping things under wraps. “Um, wha…I mean, like I said before. Bad day. Really bad. And besides, we haven’t all gotten together in weeks. What does it matter-”

She put her hands firmly on my cheeks and looked directly into my eyes. “It matters plenty when my best gal leaves her shit just laying around outside for hours and doesn’t pick up the phone, even for me. You scared me so-fucking-bad. Aren’t I _your_ best gal?”

Tears sprang into my eyes but I managed to keep them quelled as I laid my hands over hers and pressed them against my face, grateful for the comfort and scared to death about everything else. He never told me not to tell anyone, but if I did…if someone tried to intervene, would I be exposing them to his sick game? “Lila, of course you are, but…this is…I can’t even begin to explain.”

“Try.”

“No.”

“Dammit, Cas, you need to tell me!”

“I don’t want you involved!” I suddenly shouted and threw her hands off of my face. The tears now streaming unchecked, I turned away from her, ashamed. “It’s dangerous! It’s enough that I have to worry about myself! I can’t risk you getting in the middle of this!” Burying my face in my hands, I began to sob, guilt and despair covering me like a suffocating cloud.

Lila, taken aback by my outburst, suddenly softened, gathering me into her arms. “Oh my god, Cas…it’s okay, come here.” She stroked my hair as I grabbed onto her like I was drowning. “What the hell is going on? Please tell me…I need to know…”

She kept on pleading as I held on tighter. So many explanations rushed through my head, each one more unexplainable than the last. There was nothing I could tell her that wouldn’t bring up more questions, nothing I could say that she would believe or be able to comprehend. So it had to be a lie. I hoped she was still tipsy enough to miss the telltale signs of my deception.

Giving a huge sniff, I pulled away from her, wiping the coursing tears from my face. “I’m…I’m okay…I’m fine now. >sniff< Oh, wow, that feels better.” I breathed out heavily, as if a giant weight was leaving me. She searched my eyes, trying to decipher my erratic behavior. I smiled weakly and took her hands, attempting to look as earnest as I could. “Really, I’m good now.” She arched an eyebrow, just like I knew she might and I continued. “See, there was this guy. WAS. He…well, we were ah…we hung out for a bit, but he turned out to be a total creep, so I tried to stop seeing him. He kept hanging around, and yesterday I thought…”

Lila’s blue eyes flashed, anger flaring in them. “Did he do something to you?” Her voice was so cold, her soft Northern accent deadened into a hard line of resolution. Her hands gripped mine tighter, trembling on the edge. “I swear to God, if-“

“No!” I blurted, seeing the situation and my lie quickly snowballing out of control. “No, nothing like that. We never…did anything like that. Trust me, he was just a creeper. I thought I saw him following me yesterday and it brought up all those memories.” I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart in pain from lying to my best friend. “Ugh, that guy was such a fucking loser.”

I peeked at her, relieved to see the anger out of her eyes again. She looked crestfallen, though; did she see through me? Would she hate me for lying to her?

“My sweetie little Chickydoo…” she murmured, pulling me into her arms again. This time, there was no desperation, just pure comfort, and I melted against her warmth. For a while, we stood there holding each other in silence. Lila pulled back first and looked at me earnestly. I held my composure against the anxiety in my mind. She wiped my tears away and gave me a kiss on my forehead. “You should have told me.”

I chuckled a bit, shrugging my shoulders. “Yeah, I know. It all seems pretty dumb now.” I cast a look around the room, taking in the remnants of the evening. “Well, it was a fun time. God, I can’t believe how much we drank…”

I heard a small, sad sound sneak out of her and looked back, puzzled. Her face had fallen, and this time it was her burying her face in her hands. “Oh, shit. I just ruined everything, didn’t I?” Her voice trembled a little, sending sharp pains through my chest.

“What? No. No you didn’t-“

“Yes I did. Oh, man, we were all having fun! You were feeling better and I had to pry!" Her voice rose shrilly, the alcohol clearly winning out over her motherly instincts. “Dammit, I suck! You were happy! I’m sorry, I-“

Unable to stand it, I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Lila!” Her eyes snapped to mine, moisture just beginning to stand out on her lashes. “You didn’t ruin anything. I promise. Tonight was just what I needed. You are all wonderful to me, and keeping things from you was not cool,” I said steadily, hypocrisy burning me like acid, knowing just how much I was keeping from her. “And you were right. I needed to talk about it. Doing that doesn’t take away any of the fun I had tonight, okay?”

Lila blinked away her tears, a smile slowly brightening her face. “Promise? I can’t go away from here feeling shitty.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “There’s no way you’re driving or walking anywhere. Stay here tonight. We’ll have breakfast with Georgia.”

At the mention of our sauced friend, we both looked at her at the same time. She hadn’t stirred at all through our shouting and crying, even seemed to be even more deeply asleep. We looked back at each other and dissolved into warm, fuzzy laughter. She recovered first and gave me a tight hug. “Look who’s Mama Hen now.” Her voice had become much quieter and languid, her energy waning into alcohol-aided sleepiness.

I shrugged and guided her to the reading chair. “Only when I need to be. I’m always gonna be your Chickydoo.”

At the mention of her silly nickname for me, she snickered sleepily, her long lashes fluttering down over her eyes, and let me settle her into the cushions. I pulled the ottoman over so she could prop her feet up. She laid her head on a throw pillow and snuggled into it, managing to crack open one eye stubbornly, her need to stay awake for my sake rapidly fading. “You prommisse…?”

I patted her wild red hair away from her face and touched her cheek. “We’re good, hon. I’m good. Better than I’ve been.”

My assertion seemed to seal the deal and she let her eyelids droop, sighing softly as I moved away to find another blanket for her. Ruefully, I replayed everything I told her. Guilt gnawed at me, but I stomped down on it. If I told her what was really going on, she would never believe me. And that was the best case scenario. I’d hate for my best friend to think I was crazy on top of everything else. Besides, it wasn’t like this whole mess was entirely unlike what I told her.

After ensuring that my impromptu houseguests were properly settled, I strolled into the bathroom and got myself ready for bed. My buzz began to deepen as the thought of soft pillows and warm blankets beckoned to me. My cheeks felt stiff with tears, so a little cold water on my face helped a little. Humming drowsily, I wiped my damp face and hair with a towel. Into the corner it went. Into the bedroom I went. I slipped between the sheets, the covers even softer than usual. This was the first time in a while that I’d gone to bed tipsy. I liked the way it felt, like laying down on a waterbed. My eyes floated closed, my dizzy head drifting into the darkness…

The silky cold touch of shadows sank into my mind, the pulse of that small part of him blooming in my throat.

I shot upright, cold sweat prickling my skin, my buzz suddenly all but gone as I realized what was happening. All through the room, shadows encroached on the meager light like grasping fingers. I threw the covers off and stood up, panicked. The cool air hit me and sent a shockwave of dizziness through me, toppling me back onto the bed. My eyelids shivered, begging to shut as my vision softened and swam, but I held strong. I was not going through this tonight.

“No…No!” I hissed, clutching my head. The pulsing at my throat went deeper, climbing up into my temples. Soon my whole head was pounding.

_Tsk. Tsk. You know the rules._

“Fuck you…” I ground out, gripping handfuls of quilt in my fists as I struggled to keep my eyes open, my mind from falling. There was no pain in the steady beat in my head, but each one seemed to make the room darker.

_Hmm…wishful thinking?_ He purred with a velvet chuckle. Heat raced through me and I tossed my head about, trying to shake some clarity into myself.

“Go away,” I demanded, though I sounded more like I was begging.

_Well, if you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you_

Before I could ask what the hell he meant, a swath of the growing shadow suddenly erupted into a wave of blackness. I slapped my hands over my mouth to stop the scream that threatened the silence as Darkiplier smoothly stepped out of the roiling darkness. Well, most of him did. His body from the neck down seemed ghostly and intangible, like he’d been roughly sketched in soft, shifting charcoal. His head was clear and defined, that dark fall of hair subtly moving in waves, a look of bemusement and mild annoyance on his normally impassive face. Those black eyes were cold and hard as ever, glittering like gemstones.

“Wha…what…what are you…how are you here?” I stammered, pressing myself back against the headboard and drawing the quilt to my neck.

Dark lowered his head a bit and gave me a crooked grin. “Aren’t I just full of surprises?” His tone changed almost instantly, a flare of anger lighting up his eyes before dying back. “You must think you’re terribly clever, don’t you? What was this night to signify, hm?”

Shit, he knew. Of course he knew. I was foolish to think he wouldn’t notice my attempt to bolster myself against his games.

“Well, no matter. You know the terms of our deal. You come willingly, or I take you. Have you changed your mind?”

“It doesn’t matter what I choose!” I growled, and immediately lowered my voice. Lila and Georgia did not need to wake up to this. “No matter what I want, you will do as you will.”

Dark smirked, his eyes black ice. “You’re finally getting it.” His form clouded and swished through the dark air, stopping at the foot of my bed before shifting back into the ghostly form. “Now, shall we go?”

My eyes shifted around the room, watching in terror as the shadows grew and stretched, climbing the walls and blotting out the ceiling. “No. Not again. Not yet.” My voice was shrinking with every word.

Dark placed his hands on the mattress, leaning forward with a leer. I thought he was going to crawl towards me and I shrank even further back. His hands didn’t even seem to depress into the mattress. Was he really here? Was I having some kind of alcohol-induced hallucination? I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, telling myself over and over to wake up, mouthing the words at first, then desperately whispering under my breath. I was so dizzy I thought I would pass out.

Opening my eyes again, I saw him still there, still staring at me. His eyes suddenly lost their sparkle of mischief, startling me—they were steadily changing. The intense, pupilless blackness seemed to be spreading, swirling like ink poured into water. In seconds, they’d gone completely pitch black, swallowing up the light that tried to reach them. Their color was like the blackest velvet, fathomless and somehow…tender. I leaned forward a bit, the change odd and a bit fascinating. Looking closely, I could see gentle eddies of deeper blackness moving liquidly within them. My eyelids fluttered a little as I kept looking, nearly slipping closed, and I gave myself a firm shake. Somehow, I was still unable to break free from his gaze. “S-stop that. Leave me alone…please…”

His eyes never wavered, locked firmly onto mine, and he slowly raised a finger to his lips, “Shhhh…don’t worry…just relax…”

My stubbornness suddenly melted in the wake of his voice crooning over and over not just in my ears, but echoing about in my mind. It sank into me like the deepest massage, relaxing every bit of doubt and care into a pile of looseness and serenity. Dark was now slipping through the air, stalking forward like an animal, the gap between us closing by degrees. Every inch closer brought me nearer to those pools of enticing shadows. So beautiful… "Unh...stop it...D-Dark...don't..."  
  
He slowly cocked his head to the side, his sly smile growing as I followed the motion. I couldn't help it. Whatever he was doing, I was unable to resist following those eyes. Smoothly, he tilted the other way, and I mimicked him once more, trying to keep my vision straight...and desperate to follow those eyes.... “The longer you fight, the weaker you’ll get…it’s just a matter of time…”

His taunt awakened a bit of defiance in me, and I managed a sleepy glare. “Better…to fffight and…l-lose than…give in.” I had to force the words out—it felt like my lips were moving lazily. The room darkened further, softening with silken shadow.

Dark was floating just over me now, his ghostly limbs fairly straddling me. Dipping his head lower, our noses nearly touching, he hushed me softly. “Just relax…give in…come with me in the darkness… _relaaax_ …”

Oh, god, his voice…it penetrated so deeply into me that I uttered a soft moan, futilely denying the warmth rapidly spreading through my body, warmth that had nothing to do with alcohol. Once or twice, my eyelids dipped and sprang open again. My heart thudded in my ears…I was so tired…it would be easy, so simple to just close my eyes…fall into that blackness…

But I knew where that blackness would take me. Well, I didn’t really know, but it would certainly take me away from here.

Here.

Lila and Georgia were here. What would happen if they woke up and found me gone? I couldn’t bear the panic I would cause them!

“Stop!” I managed to blurt, grasping tightly onto whatever shred of will I still possessed. The shadows in the room receded a bit. Dark’s eyes remained on mine, our faces unbearably close. He tilted his head up, regarding me silently. A fraction of my will returned, clearing the fuzz from my mind. “Please. I…I can’t do that to them.” I knew he’d seen my inner turmoil, so I felt no need to fully explain. “Don’t make me do that to them.” Still he stared at me, no indication that I moved him in any way. The only clue that he was even considering hearing me was the ever-sharpening focus in my head. “Let me have tonight. One night of peace, and in the morning, after they leave I’ll…I’ll be waiting for you. I won’t fight.” I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of tears in them. “I won’t ever fight again, but only if you leave them out of your games.” Fighting fear, I opened my eyes again and looked into his earnestly. I could still see, still feel the swirling, tantalizing power in them, but I met them as steadily as I could. “Please?”

Darkiplier’s face once again lost all emotion. No flicker of intrigue in his eyes, not indication that my offer appealed to him. Then, his lips broke into a mild smirk, his head cocked curiously once more. This time, I felt no compelling need to follow the motion. Whatever he’d done before had passed, his black eyes shifting back to their normal array of black on black on grey. “Mm…you know, I rather like it when you beg.”

That sweet, smoky tone still laced his voice, sending a tiny spiral of dizziness through me, but I managed to resist. I had to play this game correctly. “Yeah…you would…” I muttered, looking up at him with a ghost of a smirk lightly tugging at my lips. “I was counting on that.”

At my admission, his eyes widened with surprise, his mouth stretching into a toothy grin. “Were you now? Well, I suppose you can be clever at times…” A beat passed while Dark made a show of mulling it over, tapping a spectral black finger to his lips. “Our previous deal stands. I call, you come. Buuut…” he teased, “I suppose I can wait until morning. A few hours is but a heartbeat for me, after all.”

A long-contained breath rushed out of me, my urge to jump for joy kept firmly in check by the fact that the girls were sleeping. The thought of them raised a red flag. I had to ask again. “My girls…you’ll leave them out of this?”

Dark leaned forward, brushing his cool cheek against mine. “Of course. What kind of monster do you take me for?” His breath tickled against my ear and I shivered a little, gooseflesh tingling all over me. He pulled away from me and rested his gaze on mine. “Now, you’d better get some sleep. I want you well rested for what I have in store for you.” Dissolving like smoke in the wind, he vanished into the gloom. “And try to put up a bit of a fight for me. It’s fun.”

His wicked laugh bounced about the room, surrounding me like fog. And then the room was still. I glanced around, searching the murk for any lingering trace of him. I waited a minute. Two minutes. Five. Nothing stirred in the darkness.

"Sleep. Yeah, sure, right. I’'ll sleep like a little baby." With a shuddering sigh, I buried myself in the sheets, pulling the quilt over my head. I denied the too thick shadows still lurking in the corners and waited for exhaustion to take over.

And still, after all that, he had the last word before oblivion took me.

_Sweet dreams…_


	9. Morning After

Brilliant shafts of sunlight slanted through my window, bathing the inner darkness behind my eyes in dull red. Grousing, I tossed away from the window, one arm flopping over the mattress. No escape there—the sunlight bounced off my vanity mirror right back down into my eyes.

“No…go’way…no light…” I slurred, my head feeling a bit too heavy, my blood running thick. With a grimace, I raised up a defiant hand and flipped off the sunbeam as if I could sass the morning into going away. I am illogical and cranky without my coffee.

Like a granted wish, the rich, roasted scent of the magical morning beverage floated through my door. My nose twitched as I breathed it in. I could almost feel the caffeine tingling in me. Another smell accompanied it, warm and savory: butter, perhaps? Motivation acquired! Kicking off the covers, I slipped into a pair of house shoes and put my robe on. Sleepily, I made my way into the kitchen, “mmm”ing all the way, practically mesmerized by a beckoning finger of coffee steam.

Lila bustled about the kitchen, picking up and depositing plates and cups along the counters. Turning, she smiled as she saw me strolling in and grabbed a large coffee mug, pouring a stream of black decadence from the carafe into it. My eyes fixed on the steady fall of sweet relief and my mouth went wet. “Gimme.”

“Morning to you too,” she chuckled. “You look like hell.”

I giggled and took the outstretched mug. “Gee, you know the way to my heart.”

“Hey, that’s better than Georgia,” she remarked, jerking her head in the direction of the living room. I could just make out the top of a head of black curls peeking over the couch. A jumble of consonants and vowels tumbled forth, a tanned hand trying and failing to wave or gesture before flopping back down limply. Giggling, I added a little cream to the coffee and placed it on the coffeetable.

“Here you go, G.” I said softly, patting her hand. “Nice hot coffee.” She moaned a string of unintelligible syllables, one green eye opening lazily and falling closed again. “Drink up, it’ll help.”

“Grumbmumble…”

Leaning close to her ear, I snickered and tapped her hand, “Hey. Gerogia. All dirty little girls say ‘mrrghrbl’.”

“Mrrghrbl…”

“Quit that you imp,” Lila scolded, laughter in her voice. “Imps get no happy morning drinks.”

Scurrying away from the nearly comatose Georgia, I held out an empty mug pleadingly. “I repent my impish ways.”

Lila shook her head and took the mug from me. “Yeah, I believe that one,” she muttered, filling the void in the cup with deliciousness. She handed it back to me along with a sugar packet. I grabbed two more from the bowl and ripped all three open with my teeth, uncaring of the tiny snowfall on the floor. Plopping down at the table, I dumped in the sugar and stirred it up impatiently.

“How’s the head?” she asked as she sliced up a few bananas and dropped them into a frying pan of sizzling butter. I salivated, knowing just what she was making. Lila was the gourmet of our group. We kept telling her that she should join some kind of culinary program, but she insisted that once food became a job for her, it wouldn’t be as much as a passion. I guess I understood where she was coming from; if I had to channel my energy into making a career out of singing, would it be as much fun?

“Surprisingly well,” I answered. “A little thick, but fine.” Lifting the mug to my face, I took a lingering sniff of the steam and tilted it to my lips. Notes of chocolate, earthy nuts, and a soft bitter bite washed over my tongue. “Mmmm, that is awesome.”

Lila grinned, spooning some brown sugar into the pan. “A little nutmeg and cocoa powder in the grounds,” she explained.

Shaking my head, I sipped again, savoring every bit of dark blissfulness. “Where’d you find all this stuff? I know I didn’t have it here last night.”

She shrugged as she stirred the bubbly brown sauce. “I stepped out earlier and picked up a few things. Not really my thing to sleep the morning away, even after consuming a liquor store,” she quipped.

“Well, that’s awesome, but Bananas Foster? That’s pretty brave for the morning.”

A sigh I could barely hear snuck out of her and she went silent, turning away from me. “Never hurts to flex the creative muscles. Besides, you put on such a fun night last night, I wanted to do something special,” her shoulders drooped a little, “especially since I was a bit of a downer.”

Putting the mug down firmly, I rose up and wrapped her up in a hug from behind. “Not this again. I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Turning her, I dipped my head under her red curls so she would look at me. Her eyes were clear but tinged with a little sadness. “You stop that. Okay? Don’t make me revoke _your_ coffee privileges.” Finally she smiled and gave my hand a squeeze, nodding assent.

“Mmmf, somethin’ smells good…”

We both turned to see Georgia tottering into the kitchen, emptied mug dangling in her hand. Her black hair covered half of her face, shielding her sensitive eyes from the light. “More please,” she mumbled sleepily, holding up the mug.

“Welcome back to the land of the living you little booze hound,” I teased, filling up the cup again. She gave me a mock glare and tittered, accepting the coffee gratefully.

“That drinking game is dangerous shit,” she said, smoothing back her hair as she sat. I slid the cream and sugar over to her and settled back into my chair, feeling the bloom of caffeine in my blood.

“Fire in the hole, ladies!” Lila announced, holding the bottle of rum over her head. Georgia grumped at the loudness, but instantly grinned when she realized what was going on. She and I turned our chairs to watch as Lila poured a double shot and quickly dumped it into the pan. With a tilt to the blue gas flame, an eruption of crimson fire went up with a “floof” and sent a rich spicy scent of caramel and bananas up into the air. We “ahhed” accordingly and clapped with glee.

“Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind,” she beamed with a dramatic bow and then went back to the sauce, making sure the alcohol cooked down. There was a ping from the toaster oven and she opened it, letting out the warm scent of waffles. “Sorry they’re just frozen, but the sauce is tricky to watch-“

“Stop it, you nut,” I ordered. “I was expecting toast and stale cereal. This is awesome.”

“Yeah,” Gerogia agreed between swallows of coffee. “You know I’ll eat shit-on-a-shingle and grin about it. You’re a queen.”

Blushing, she set the plate of hot waffles down and let us pick out our own. She drizzled the sauce over each plate, making sure to get chunks of banana on each one. “Flatterers. Okay, let’s dig in.”

In a few minutes, the Bananas Foster waffles had vanished, the only evidence that they had ever been a sweet, heady taste on our tongues. Each of us were on our third cup of coffee, sitting around talking about our plans for the day: afternoon classes for Georgia, an evening of work for Lila, and me…I knew what _part_ of the day would hold, but I wouldn’t think about that now. A night shift at the bar was all I needed to tell them about my plans. The morning outside grew stronger, but the light was a comfort now rather than a painful intrusion. All was right. All was absolutely delicious.

“I just hope I can get that essay banged out before class,” Georgia muttered, reclining her head on the back of the couch. “Epic Poetry was never my strong suit.”

I nodded, rolling my shoulders around to release the last of the morning kink. “I felt the same way when I took that class. You could have come to me, I’d have given you some pointers.”

Lila smacked her knee, looking apologetically at Georgia whose coffee sloshed (but didn’t spill). “We need to be better about being together. Life can’t get in our way yet, not while we’re still in college. Once a week, at the very least, we need to try to have a night for us girls.”

Nodding happily, I raised my mug. “I’ll drink to that. May we keep our word or all coffee shalt taste unto mud to us.”

“Hear hear!” They answered as we (carefully) clacked our mugs together and quaffed.

After we all pitched in to get the kitchen clean, I let the girls take turns in the shower as I got the rest of the apartment shimmed up. I couldn’t stand the thought of coming home to a dirty place. Lila left first for her job at the little coffee shop downtown and I went over a few pointers on Dante with Georgia. It wasn’t long before she had to leave though. As soon as the door closed on her and I was alone, I felt an immediate emptiness. It felt like they had been a shield against the darkness, holding it at bay. Now they were gone and my mind was free to be paranoid. I glanced around nervously, checking the corners for any shadows that might lurk. Slowly lowering myself into the reading chair, I drew my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them.

He’d be coming for me soon. I could feel it. What would I do? Last night I promised I wouldn’t fight when he came, but he said he wanted me to fight. Giving in was a betrayal of myself, but if I fought...he liked it. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do that didn’t please him.

The thought of pleasing him sank into my stomach like a kick in the gut, sending a shiver up my spine that I couldn’t truthfully say was of total revulsion. Why, why was this happening? No matter how I fought and all that he had done to me--or what I knew he could do—one touch was all it took to make my defenses crumble into helplessness. I hugged my knees tighter,

Rising like smoke, the memory of his eyes filling with shadow came to the front of my mind. What was that: that palpable darkness swimming behind them? My muscles began to soften a little, releasing from their pensive pose on the chair as I recalled his smoky soft voice. Closing my eyes didn’t help, it just pulled my focus further inward, the darkness behind my eyes bright compared to his. “No…not thinking about _that_.” I rubbed my hands over my face, doing my best to push those lightless, secretive eyes away from my thoughts. Many minutes passed while I sat there trying to keep calm. I was expecting to be overtaken by shadow already. The waiting was the most awful part. Was he coming at all? He was so impatient to take me last night.

_“Shhhh…don’t worry…”_ I flushed. Last night…

_“Come with me in the darkness…”_ My eyes slipped closed. His voice…

_“Relaaaaxxx…”_ His _eyes_ …

“STOP THAT!” I screamed, immediately slapping my hands over my mouth. It wasn’t early in the morning, but there were still people sleeping in the apartments next to mine no doubt. I didn’t need people complaining to the landlord about the crazy screaming girl in 130B. I looked around feverishly, my heart racing. Had I heard him? Was that really his voice in my head, or just me remembering it?

The spiral at my throat lay still and quiet, sleeping gently under my skin.

_Why am I worrying?_ I grumbled inwardly, pushing out of the chair. _If he’s not coming, that’s fine. Great even!_ I marched into the bathroom and filled the tub. He’d ruined too many days of mine with his presence; I wasn’t going to let him ruin one by his absence.

\--

“Mm-mm! Yes!” I grinned as I toweled off the last of the soap from my skin, the scent of sandalwood and rose floating around me. Humming softly, I twisted my hair up into the towel and strolled into my room. Despite the scare last night, I was feeling oh so good! Last night had been a release, and that had been pure bliss. I didn’t take many bubble baths, it was time consuming and for a college girl on the go, time was limited. Showers weren’t bad, but I always seemed to rush through them because I had to and because it was easy to. There was no room for rush with fluffy bubbles and essential oils. I felt like I had no bones at all.

Slipping into a pair of loose jeans and a printed T-shirt (Alice in Wonderland), I bounced into the living room, snatching a random book from the shelf as I did. I poured the last cup of Lila’s awesome coffee into a mug and added milk and sugar, taking it to the couch. Normally I read in my favorite chair, but this time I wanted to lay out. I set the coffee on the table and looked at the title I had chosen, grinning to see an anthology of R.A. Salvatore I hadn’t read in a while. Well, this day was just delightful! Smiling, I lowered myself into the plush cushions.

The couch seemed to drop out from beneath me, plummeting me into a yawning darkness that stole my sight. I had no time to grab anything to keep me back, just fell screaming into the nothing. Faster and faster I fell, pulled down by the weight of a foreign gravity. Shrieking winds whipped my hair around my face, drowning my cries in the howling storm. It lasted for only moments, but it felt like forever.

And suddenly I stopped, held aloft by a dull resistance that let me float to the ground like a feather. Dust and grit on the cold tile floor crunched under my hands and knees. I bowed my head, letting my snarled hair fall over my firmly closed eyes. Only when my lungs started to hurt did I realized I’d been holding my breath which came out in a loud “whoof” and a frantic gulping of fresh air, if you could call it fresh. It was stale, dust-ridden, and carried a faint but obvious taint of unwashed skin and something cloying: death. Daring a look, I opened my eyes and prepared myself for the worst.

It was dark, but only from a lack of light, not a lack of everything else. I could faintly make out large shapes and forms in the small room, weak light from somewhere farther away straining to make it into my eyes. 

I felt around on the dirty floor for something, anything. A weapon, a flashlight. There was no telling what fresh hell I’d been dropped into, and I knew I’d get no help from him. This was a punishment. A penalty for my defiance.

Startled as my hand fell on something small and hard, I skittered back a bit then reached forward and grabbed it. It was still too dark to make out what it was, but I ran my hands over it studiously, feeling small bumps and a flat plane that hinged…and something round on both ends. Feeling pretty certain I knew what it was, I pressed one of the small bumps: buttons.

There was a click. I raised one circular end to my eye.

Through the camera’s eyepiece, I saw swampy green hues washing over the room, brilliant whites highlighting the furniture and other features of the room.

Nightvision.  

I knew it. The bastard did it. I didn’t even need to look at the tarnished placard on the wall to know where I was.

Mount Massive Asylum.


	10. Lunatics Run The Asylum

My bare feet slipped across the gritty floor as I made my way through the darkened room. Asshole could have at least given me a chance to put some shoes on. I bumped against something hard and cursed, rubbing the soon to be sore spot on my side. The thought crossed my mind to use the camera to see, but it ran on batteries, a precious resource and one that I could not afford to squander. Moving slowly, sweeping my hands out in front of me, I managed to make it to the door without running into anything else. I prayed it would open and I wouldn’t have to go searching through a dark room for a key.

Thankfully it swung open, the rusty creak resounding through the hallway much to my chagrin. The dim corridor was empty, but not far away I heard sobs and screams, of the killers or their victims I couldn’t tell. Moving as slowly as I dared, I began the long, terrible journey through the asylum.

For a while, the only thing stopping my progress was the occasional variant stalking out of the thick shadows. They were easy enough to evade: ducking into the shadows and watching them sporadically through the camera’s infravision until they vanished. I knew it wouldn’t last, though. They were the fodder of this world. Some of the most disturbing characters ever created made their home in this world. The giant Chris Walker, the cannibalistic Frank Manera, and Billy Hope, the Walrider spectre: all awful and terrifying, but…

A voice broke through the silence of the corridor, cultured, soft, and tremulous. “Is it…is it you? Truly?”

Oh, fuck no.

Around the corner stepped a tall man in old-fashioned dress, something straight out of a 1920s movie. Bloodstains marred his otherwise dapper appearance, and I knew little of it was actually his. “My dearest, you’re perfection!”

Give me Chris, give me Frank, even the Walrider! Anyone but this asshole: Eddie Gluskin. “The Groom”.

As I turned and sprinted away, I heard his fine shoes take off after me, slapping loudly on the tile floor. “NO! Don’t leave me! Damn you, you whore!”

I threw down boxes and leapt over strangely placed tables, trying to put some kind of distance between us. Behind me, his desperate pleas and vile abuse dogged my steps, but I could hear them fade as I ran. Vaulting over another table (or was it a gurney? Were those bloodstains?), I landed flat-footed and kept running. I’d somehow put enough distance between myself and Gluskin that I couldn’t hear him anymore. That gave me little relief. This game was all about false security, an easy trap to fall into.

I took a corner and dashed into the first open door I saw, slamming it behind me. The door had no lock, only a latch at the top that I quickly bolted. It wouldn’t hold against him, but it might slow him down long enough for me to find a different way out. I pressed my back against it and looked around, taking note of anything I could use to stay alive. I was in some sort of surgery theatre, if you could call it that. The room was a large one, poorly lit, full of overturned tables, a pair of tall lockers flanking the doors, and a very bloody gurney with straps. Various metallic items glistened in the poor light. There were two large windows—one beside the door I came in and another on the opposite side of the room that showed rows of chairs behind the glass.

Blowing out a long held breath, I went to one of the tables and searched for a battery. Nothing here but medical instruments: a few rusted scalpels, some surgical scissors, and a (brrr) syringe with a needle as long as my finger. My battery life was alright, but it wouldn’t hold out forever. The rules of the game were run, hide, or die. What would it be like to die in this place?

Well screw that. I grabbed the biggest scalpel on the tray, a meager weapon, but better than nothing. This wasn’t some pre-programmed game, this was as real as it got. And I was ready to play it MY way now. Grabbing the small metal table the instruments lay on, I launched it at the fluorescent lights. They shattered with a sad buzz and a tinkling of glass tubing, bathing the room half in shadow.

I could hear him outside, rounding the corner, crying out affection and madness. His voice was getting louder. “I hear you, lover! I’m coming to you, please wait for me!”

I ran to the darkest part of the room and crouched down, grimacing and biting down on a cry as my foot crunched onto a piece of glass. The door jumped in the frame, pounded on the other side by his shoulder. Ramming it again, and then once more until the latch popped free and the door screeched open. Even in the near darkness I saw his eyes shining like an animal’s, a ghastly smile taking his bloodied face. “Hide and seek, my love? I have other games we can plaaaaayyyy…”

Pushing my terror aside, I gripped my scalpel and rose to my feet, running at him with a scream. He turned at the sound, a look of shock on his face as I sank my weapon into his chest, my rush tackling him to the floor. As if noticing it for the first time, he roared in more rage than pain clamped his hands around mine. I rocked the scalpel in the wound, not a deep one, but it poured with blood, the razor-sharpness of the blade opening up multiple vessels. Releasing my hands, he grabbed me around the waist and managed to get me on my back, gripping the collar of my shirt in both hands, trying to tear it open. I writhed and kicked, slivers of pain shooting through my skin as we rolled about, wrestling for control. My knee sank into his gut, forcing his breath out in a painful heave. I yanked the scalpel free and stabbed at his hands, hoping he’d let go. With a growl, he backhanded me with a rock hard fist. Fiery stars exploded in my eyes. I spat blood on the floor, coughing and wheezing in pain.

“Why?! Why won’t you accept me?!” His filthy fingers latched around my throat and began to squeeze. “WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH SLUTS?!”

Gargling and grunting, I fought on, bucking and twisting my body in a frenzied attempt to dislodge him. He lifted and slammed my head down, sending black spots swirling across my vision. My breath failed me. A strange ringing deafened my ears as I let my arms fell away, too weak to hold on.

Just before my vision went black, he let up slightly, one hand releasing my neck, the other still pinning it down. I managed a suck of thin air into my lungs when sliver of light caught my eye, thin as a spider’s silk glinting coldly in his hand. It drifted closer, a bead of greenish liquid dangling at the very end of the light. His voice burbled thickly into my ears. “Just hold still, my sweet. I’ll make you accept me…”

The very tip of the needle pricked my throat just to the side of the spiral brand, and I suddenly found a burst of laser focus. Both hands shot forward and pressed into Gluskin’s eyes with hooked thumbs, a ragged scream tearing my throat in a long explosion of terror and desperation. He shrieked in agony, the syringe falling uselessly to the floor as he tried to pry my hands away from him. My fingernails dug into the sides of his face, drawing blood. Just when I thought I would actually gouge out his eyes, he jumped off of me, burying his face in his hands, cursing and wailing. Blood coated the tips of my fingers, slipping along the cold floor as I backpedaled away, pain and fire spiking through my hands until I managed to jump to my feet. A sharp twinge deep in my thigh nearly sent me back down—I must have pulled something in the scuffle. I ran out of the room and down the hallways, ducking into a room down the corridor. Dim, empty, full of boxes: a perfect room to hide in for a bit.

I slammed the door and leaned against it, gulping cold, dusty air into my body. After I calmed down a bit, I raised the camera and scanned the room. There had to be a kit of some kind in here. These games always had those. Fatigue crept into me and I placed my hand on the wall, trying to keep myself from passing out. A sickening slice of pain shot through my hand. I pulled it back, gaping in dismay it the perfect red handprint on the wall. My hands were riddled with small cuts from crawling across the glassy floor, not to mention all the slices on the rest of me. Nausea rose up thickly in my stomach as pain seeped into my body from countess places, but I managed to keep my breakfast down.

An even sicker feeling crept through me as I remembered stepping on that chunk of lightbulb. Looking down, I saw the red betrayal on the floor: the trail of a single, bloodied foot.

The door behind me exploded open, launching me forward into a splintering pile of boxes. One or two cracked under my weight, raking my arms with woody bits. Gluskin, silhouetted against the doorframe of my compromised hiding place, barreled in with a growl. Blood dripped in crimson tears from his eyes. Drool oozed from his lips, the front of his fine old-fashioned dress shirt a mess of tattered red. Howling, he ran forward, eyes maddened, a thick lead pipe brandished high. Shutting my eyes tightly, I screamed and threw my arms across my face, hoping the blow would at least land on them rather than my skull.

A pulse of palpable energy buzzed through the room, humming gentle vibrations through the air. Everything became silent and still. Forcing my eyes open, I gaped at the sight of Gluskin hunched over me, locked in mid-swing, his weapon an inch from impact on my head. His eyes darted about in confusion and outrage. I clambered out of the smashed boxes and backed away from my would-be killer until I felt the wall behind me and slid down to sit on the dusty floor. What the hell happened? Did I win? Did I lose?

The center of the room brightened suddenly—or rather, the shadows thinned a bit. The shadows remaining coalesced and soon Darkiplier stood with his arms folded over his chest, his black eyes blazing in the gloom. He took a quick look at Gluskin, whose eyes suddenly filled with horror, his tight frozen grimace twitching subtly. Dark shook his head and looked back at me, betraying nothing, just staring in his unsettling way. We remained in our positions, staring into each other for uncounted moments. I was the first to break eye contact, shaking my head in confusion as I looked at Gluskin again, still feeling the thundering fear of my close call pounding through me. “What did-I mean-how…”

At last, a smile cracked his emotionless face. “Pause button,” he shrugged as if that explained every mystery.

My momentary wonder at my deliverance vanished at the sight of that smile. Always that damned smile! Anger filled up the spaces between my pain and fear. I pressed against the floor and tried to stand, fully intent on walking right over and throttling him. “You…fucking-“

The pain suddenly won out in a rapid rush, deep-seated fatigue setting into my bones, and I crumpled to the cold, dusty floor again. “Shit,” I hissed as I landed heavily on my aching leg. The adrenaline that pumped through me dwindled, letting pain and hysteria seep in. A few stubborn tears slipped free and I scrubbed them away, smearing my face with more blood.

Dark remained still for a bit longer, then took a leisurely step in my direction.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” I shrieked, shrinking back at his approach. A thousand jarring shocks of pain careened through my body as I screamed. Smashing my bloodied hands over my mouth, I began crying miserably. I could taste my blood, copper-rich and salty.  

Dark stood there, inhumanly still, watching my pain and fear playing out. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees front of me. I scooted back a bit, the wall behind me unyielding. His smirk vanished and he leaned away from me tentatively, like I was a wounded animal ready to bolt. Well, I suppose I was. Could I get around him? Did I dare to try? His eyes locked on mine and I startled, fully expecting that strange darkness to take over them again. But no, they just lingered on me, calm as a lake. Squirming, I felt fluttering nerves in my stomach, awakened by that strange expression.

I didn’t realize how close he was until I felt his cool fingers brush my hand, felt them try to close around it. I managed to break the intense stare and snatched my wounded appendage out of his reach. Shaking my head vehemently, I let it fall to my chest, hiding my eyes from him. “Don’t…don’t touch me. Please, just go away.” I broke down into sniffles again, knew he must be getting some sick thrill out of my pleas, but I no longer cared. If he wanted me to beg, I’d beg. Anything for him to leave me alone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand gesturing on the floor, drawing little bits of shadow up out of it. They looped and spiraled in the air around his fingers, reminding me of filigreed handwriting, catching my attention more fully. Watching them made the pounding fear in my gut soften a little. Cool flesh closed around my hand and I gasped, the touch of his skin a cold shock, his grip on me firm but not clenching. Bits of glass prickled inside the cuts, drawing a muffled sob from my throat. He stared at my hand for a few moments, then set his dark eyes on the frozen statue of Gluskin just beyond us. He muttered something I couldn’t understand and waved his other hand in the direction of the madman. Immediately, the human form opened and peeled away like a costume, vanishing into a black, ashy substance that blew away in a wind that I couldn’t feel. In its place, a hunched shadowy form cowered on the floor. Dark’s eyes narrowed at the thing which reached up a supplicating limb, pointing in my direction, and sank into the floor with a mild, whining whisper.

“Worm,” he muttered as the last of the creature’s darkness vanished. Turning back to me, he gave me a tiny, tight-lipped smile and smoothly turned my hand palm up in his. I’d almost forgotten he’d been holding it. Before I could say a word, he closed his eyes and brushed his fingers over the scattered wounds. The whorls of shadows twined around my hand, tingling as they touched me like the prickles in a part of your body that’s fallen asleep. My eyes flew wide with disbelief as the cuts and scrapes began to close up. It was like watching days of healing happen all at once. He released me and reached for the other hand, but I just kept staring at the edges of the sliced skin moving together seamlessly, leaving the barest hint of a scar.

Dark sat fully on the floor and reached for my left foot, not bothering to ask or care if I protested. He laid it carefully across his leg, the new position a little uncomfortable for me. His hands skimmed up over my knee and along my thigh. A cold tingle spread through my leg, the tightness of the twisted hip muscle releasing. Shadows swirled and floated all around me, each one seeking a wound to mend. Hard glittering things spangled in them like stars in the night as they pulled away from me: the glass in my wounds. When the last wisp floated away, the shadows vanished, showering the floor with tinkling crystals. As he ran his hand down my leg to lightly touch upon my bloodied foot, a tremble raced through me that I couldn’t suppress.

His sly chuckle told me he felt it as well. Black, solemn eyes raised up and rested on my puzzled face. “Not so bad now, is it?”

I could only shake my head, unable to find the words to reply. Though I still had blood all over me, there was no indication that I’d been hurt at all. My nerves felt languid, the pain dissolved completely, yet my mind was reeling. I glanced down at my hands laying in my lap, completely healed up. When I tried to lift my arms, I found them unresponsive. Even my fingers wouldn’t wiggle, not even a bit. I jerked my head up, suddenly frightened again.

“Why won’t they move?” Testing my legs, I found them just as immobile. I could move my head, my torso, but my arms and legs were jelly. “Why can’t I move? _What did you do_?”

With a grim smile, Dark moved quickly forward and scooped me up, ignoring my squeak of protest. Looping his arms around mine so they wouldn’t just dangle, he shot me a playful smile. “Just a precaution. Can’t have you running off after an ordeal like that, can I?” he said nonchalatly, carrying me effortlessly as he made his way through the silenced corridors.

As we moved, the scenery began to change, swaths of shadows obscuring the walls and floors. Passing through a darkened doorway, there was a strange sound, like an echoing chorus of hushing whispers as the shadows thickened. Then I realized the whispering was coming from the shadows. Nervously, I curled against him, pulling as much of myself away from the spectral darkness. A rumble vibrated through his barrel chest, a low laugh that I felt more than heard. He gazed down at me, his dark eyes smooth and placid. “You worry too much,” he murmured, his voice much softer than it had been.

Grimacing, I tossed my head away from him. If I could just get my limbs moving…it wouldn’t do a bit of good. As much as I hated to admit it, my mind was in far too much confusion and my body was completely spent. Even if I had the use of my limbs, I couldn’t hope to escape him. All I could manage was a weak wriggle, and all it accomplished was to make him tighten his arms around me. “Your fault,” I grumbled, trying to ignore the feel of his arms securely cradling me, cursing the fact that my body was being so rebellious. “Where are we going?”

“We’re here.”


	11. Impact

I looked around, trying to get my bearings in the murky dimness. We’d arrived in a rather nondescript room, seemingly empty save for the small table and chairs in the center. A single, bare light bulb suspended from a wire threw sickly light over the small space, barely touching the corners. No windows, no other furniture. Darkness encompassed the rest of the space.

Dark crossed the dingy floor and lowered me into one of the chairs, arranging my arms on the table so I wouldn’t simply slump over or topple out onto the floor. Sauntering to his chair, he gave it an expert spin and sat backwards in it. I tossed a glance at the door we’d come through, watching as it vanished into the solid wood of the wall.

The significance was not lost on me; there was no escape, at least not one without him allowing it.

“Nice place,” I grumbled. “You really roll out the red carpet for a girl.” Groaning out a long sigh of agitation, I slumped back in the chair, feeling more powerless than usual as my arms hung limply at my sides. A tingle in my nerves signaled their awakening. I still couldn’t move my limbs, but my fingers flexed and my toes wiggled a bit. It was a start.

Leaning his cheek against his palm, he gave me a somewhat wistful look. Instead of smirking, he wore the barest hint of a smile, his eyes too mild, too soft. They seemed to look right into me, drawing out deep-seated feelings that I was not prepared to deal with. Ducking my head, I tried to ignore his gaze. It didn’t do any good; I could still feel it. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Why not?” came his easy answer.

Nerves wriggled in the depths of my stomach. “I don’t like it,” I muttered.

His low rumbling laugh buzzed through the air, a vein of cockiness running through it. “Yes you do.” His voice dipped lower, smoother. Heat shot up from my heart to my cheeks. “You just don’t like the fact that you like it.”

A burst of strength and anger flared in me, chasing the last of the numbness from my body. I shot out of the chair, knocking it backwards, and slammed my palms on the table. “I don’t need your attitude right now!” Our eyes met over the dim, dusty expanse between us with a perceptible spark of energy. The air in the room thickened, pressing in on me from every direction. Intimidation, I knew, but I kept my eyes on his. He wouldn’t cow me, not this time. It felt too good to be angry instead of afraid. “What the hell is your deal? You put me through hell then act like…like…I don’t even know.” I spat bitterly. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Other than why not?” He hissed, just as much bitterness in his voice as mine as he rose from his chair. Black eyes bore down on me, shrinking my posture from confidence to trepidation. I swallowed hard, sweat beading on my forehead. He snorted a quiet laugh and shook his head. “The only reason to do anything is because you want to. My whole existence, I’ve been beholden to working within the will of another. My visions and machinations shackled by the choices of my host…dear, sweet Mark.” There was so much acid in that statement that I believe I felt my skin burning. Dark shook his head and snickered. “He’d never allow something like this to happen to one of his precious fans.” All bitterness suddenly faded away, replaced by the purest satisfaction that made me feel like this was the most natural thing in the world. “And that’s why I’m doing this—because _I_ want to.”  
He paused and swished his hand against the table, disintegrating it back into the gloom. I managed to move back a bit before it vanished, not allowing a repeat of that damn chair incident. Grinning, he advanced on me, forcing me back a few steps. The toppled chair, forgotten behind me, caught my feet and sent me tumbling back with a cry. His hands shot forward and grabbed my waist, stopping my fall before pulling me towards him. Raising my hands defensively, I groaned in dismay when I felt where they landed: just below his collarbone, splayed against the steadily rising and falling broadness of his chest.

And there we were, much too close once again. I pushed my hands against his chest, denying the taut muscle and the redoubled beat of my heart. Dark let me stuggle a bit before his grip tightened on my hips. “That’s the only reason I’m doing this…the only reason you’re here.” Subtly moving his face closer to mine, his black pooled eyes delved into mine. “And because you bent the rules.”

Words failed me for a moment, my mouth fumbling open and closed trying to work out a sentence. “Rules? What rules, there were rules?”

A wicked smirk crossed his face, fading back into emotionlessness. Releasing his grip on me, he stepped backward into a cloak of shadows that slowly obscured him. “Run, hide, or die. Those were the rules of the game. If you’d just followed them, you might have made it through without my _assistance_.”

As he vanished, he put weight on the last word, shoving the too clear fact in my face. If he hadn’t stepped in, Gluskin would have gotten me, no question. “I never asked for your help, you know,” I grumbled. It was an impotent thing to say, of course. The memory of prickling glass was still very fresh, a phantom itch on the heel of one hand making me twitch. I harrumphed and gave him a sour look, unable to find it in me to thank him, even though I was grateful that he’d stepped in. “And excuse me for not rolling over and giving up.” A bitter laugh shook me, thinking of a bit of irony to throw back in his face. “Didn’t you tell me to put up a fight? Wasn’t it fun to watch?”

His laughter rolled through the air. My growing confidence shriveled in on itself until I felt like I would collapse too. A cold, empty feeling hollowed out my stomach. Why couldn’t I move? All I did was glance around. “Once again, you misunderstand. Of course I expected a fight. I _love_ watching you struggle.” A thrilling tremor entered his voice that sent a similar shiver through me. “The simple fact remains that you shouldn’t have been _able_ to. This is _my_ world that responds to _my_ will.”

The atmosphere of the room grew colder and I stiffened, feeling his breath tickle the down on my neck. My eyes darted about for some avenue of escape, but I couldn’t move. It felt like he’d reduced my spine to solid ice. “And yet here you are, a mortal woman, altering my world. It’s impressive.”

 “I’m…I’m not looking to impress you.” My voice shook as if I was in an earthquake.

“But you do, Cas. You do.” He hummed softly, vibrating the air all around me. “So soft and sweet-looking…but tough…stubborn. And you take to the darkness so well.”

Swallowing past the feeling of dry sand clogging my throat, I dared to turn my head just a little towards him. Not being able to see him made me uneasy. Something twisted inside the black brand, a tension I hadn’t felt since yesterday. I winced a little, my hand reaching up to massage at the knot. The pressure built, my chest tight and anxious. “What…what darkness?”

One pale hand moved around to guide my hand touching the brand away, replacing it with his. Hovering just over my chest, his cold fingers began tracing against the brand. Icy shivers traveled out from his touch, the feeling like tingling snow on my skin. “The darkness I gave you of course. Don’t you remember?” In seamless circling motion, his fingertip kept going around the black mark. The tightness in my chest subsided and I bit hard on my lip to keep from making any noise, but I felt myself going soft, losing my resolve. “Shades impart darkness, and take back what isn’t used.” I heard the smile in his voice, the gentle circling strokes drawing me down into the center and back out again. “That’s how you changed my world. No easy feat, and I must commend you.”

Around and around…spiraling into infinity…

All at once, I saw them. In the the murk of the room, figures and forms swam about in countless gradients of black. Darkness within darkness. Never stopping, ever shifting. Like…like in the depths of his eyes…

Finally the weak light from the hanging bulb flickered away, engulfed by the thickened shadow. The circle of his fingertip stopped and I felt another shift in the room, interrupting the complete nothingness. It melted like hot black wax, revealing more and more of a scene I know I never wanted to see again. We were back in the surgery room. At least, it looked almost the same. I remembered it to be a lot clearer, more defined, but now the hard lines were blurred by the waving shadows.  
  
"This is the room as I created it. Everything in here was mine," he said. Frowning, I turned to him, but before I could say a word the door to the room blasted open. Gasping loudly, I pulled away and spun around, smothering a scream before I gave myself away, fully expecting to see Gluskin's awful face leering at me.  
  
My jaw fell open when I saw who came in instead. Me! In shock, I watched myself throw my own back against the door and glance around, panicked and nearly hysterical.  
  
"I...what? Why are you showing me this?"  
  
"Just watch." He inclined his head toward the operating table and the tray where I found the...  
  
The scalpels weren't there. It was just a bloodied metal tray next to the table. My doppelganger glared over Her shoulder at the soft echo of Her foe's taunt and made a beeline for the center of the room where the tray was. She reached for the empty space and a set of rusted scalpels appeared. The shadows wavered around them like everything else in the room, but the edges held a soft glimmer. She didn't notice because She didn't see, but I did.  
  
"That's why. I didn't give you a weapon; you _made it._ Your survival instinct tapped into the darkness and shaped it. Quite remarkably actually." As he spoke, he'd begun the gentle circle around the brand once more. The scene began to fade as I watched Her grab the tray table to throw it at the light, the ghostly rim of light running along its edges at Her touch. At MY touch. Was it true? Did I really...?  
  
“Oh yes, Cas. It's true. You are part of this darkness. And it is a part of _you._ ” His finger stopped in the center of the brand, giving it a quick poke with a soft laugh. The lazily moving shadows faded into the solid black once more. I found myself able to move and took the opportunity, stepping quickly away from him and around to the opposite side of the table that was somehow there again. Dark didn’t pursue me this time, just stood there staring, at ease as always. 

“Then, why am I still here? Why don’t you just take your damned darkness and let me go home?”

The sound of his tongue clicking in disapproval echoed through the room. “Oh, but that’s your prize for winning, not simply playing well. Our bargain remains as it always has.”

I hadn’t had time to realize it before, but it was true. The game hadn’t been completed. I _couldn’t_ win it now, and I had no desire to go back, no matter what he said I did to his precious game world. “You call this a bargain? It’s a raw deal in your favor. You get to play these stupid games and whatever you suck out of me.” He cocked an eyebrow and smiled broadly. Grimacing, I pressed my hands against my eyes, blushing furiously at how weirdly I said that. “Shut up, I know how that sounded. But you get everything, and what do I get?”

My rising anger petered out as a swish of cold air swept behind me and his cold fingers closed around my arms, an iron grip covered in silken skin. I gasped, choking on the words in my throat. God, I hated when he did that.   
Pressing even closer to me, so close I felt the muscles in his chest against my back, he eased his lips next to my ear. “Oh, so you want something? I can be persuaded to oblige…”

I clenched every muscle against the tremors his voice sent through me, biting back a groan as his fingertips grazed up to my shoulders, raising goosebumps on their way. My knees buckled and shook, fear mingling with a crazy rush of heat that started in my chest, moved to my stomach, slipped down lower to smolder in my core. “N-no, I don’t- don’t want…I mean I do, I want…I ahhh…”

With a gentle twist, he guided my body to face him. Hoping my cheeks were not as red as they felt, hoping the low light hid the sheen of sweat on my skin, I turned my face up to him. “You want to go home.” It wasn’t a question. Hardly believing my luck, I nodded dumbly. I stopped immediately when I noticed he was nodding too, mimicking my movement. Or was I mimicking him? “Well, since our other game was cut short, I propose a new one.”

I huffed, rolling my eyes. “A game. Of course. That’s all we _mortals_ are to you.”

A look of hurt passed over his impassive features, softening them to the point that I felt genuine regret sink into my stomach. “A game? You? Oh, never…you’re the prize. My pretty prize,” he murmured, closing his eyes blissfully.

There was no point in arguing anymore. He had an answer, a twist to put on everything. If I ever intended to get home, I had to play his game. My shoulders slumped in defeat, dropping my head in exhausted resignation. “Fine, whatever. Let’s get this over with. What’s the game?”

A beat passed, and his strong hands clamped onto my wrists. I yelped in shock, my head shooting back up, but every thought went quiet as his eyes flashed open to reveal billows of blackness spreading and encompassing them until they became satin shadow.

“Don’t Blink,” he purred.


	12. Don't Blink

The power in them was a tangible thing, warping the light in the room, sending buffets of soft pulses through the air. This wasn’t the gentle, sleepy coercion of last night. No, these shadows were a rolling storm, a bared display of what he was truly capable of. Already, I began feeling that compulsion to keep looking, the urge to lose myself in the beckoning darkness. Wider went my eyes, trying to take in everything I saw.

No, no way, not this time. Drawing upon everything I had, I turned my head to the side, breaking his gaze. It took more effort than it should have.

“Aw, that’s not so fair,” he pouted, his head dipping closer to try to catch me again.

I looked straight down at my feet, tucking my chin to my chest. “You said don’t blink. You never said don’t look away.”

Chuckling, he pulled me closer to him, his fingers creeping up from my forearms to my elbows. “Clever. We’ll see how that works out.” He leaned in close, hovering next to my ear. “And remember, even if I can’t see those pretty eyes, I’ll know if you blink,” he growled, warning swimming beneath the smoothness in his voice. 

“Fine.” I began moving my eyes around in short flicks, not fixating on anything. . How long would this go on? _Never mind_ , I thought. _I can do this._

After roughly a minute, my eyes started getting itchy. The dusty air was the problem. Dark kept his hold on my arms, making it impossible to wipe at my irritated eyes. The lids flicked and twitched, not used to this kind of strain. That was the least of my worries, though. Something in the room changed. Instead of lingering in the corners, the flitting shadows stretched and snaked around me. I squeaked as one of them brushed my leg with ghostly coldness. Its touch sent a shock through my body, nearly made me blink but I held strong.

Dark laughed quietly, sliding his hands up to rest on my shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. They sense the darkness in you now. It’s only natural that they want to be close to you.”

Shrugging at his hands, which dropped back down to my elbows, I scoffed at him, playing off my new rise of nervousness with bravado. “Natural? There’s nothing natural about them.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” The swirling shadows swam about my feet, twining and caressing around my ankles like a devoted cat. Slithering sensations traveled up from their touches, covering me head to toe in gooseflesh. “Darkness is the most natural thing. It was here first, even before the first light. The most primal, most lasting thing is the darkness. All lights will fade, and the stars eventually die. Darkness is eternal.” The shadows threw their lazy tide pools everywhere I looked catching my eyes with their relaxing whorls of black. Added to the sound of his pleasantly rolling baritone, it was a dangerous combination. Dark drew nearer to me, close enough to whisper against my hair. “ _You_ are part of _eternity_ …”

With some strain, I pulled my gaze away from the wonder of the writhing shadows. Ignoring the impulse to look at him, I fixed my eyes on the front of his shirt. That turned out to be equally as bad as I got caught up in the rise and fall of his barrel chest. _Up…down…up…_ My own breathing began to deepen, and I felt my eyelids droop, lulled by the smooth motion of up…dowwwn...

“ _I’m wiiiinning_ …” His soft, lilting mockery startled me out of the peaceful stupor. I glanced up, my eyes finding focus on the base of his jaw, his smile teasing and sly. What was I supposed to do? The lure of his eyes pulled up at me as the shadows pulled me back down.

“You’re distracting me, shut up,” I spat, straining to look down again, to get away from his eyes. As my head dipped forward, a piece of my bangs fell into my eyes, bits of hair sticking to my lashes. I tossed my head a little, trying to get it out of the way.

“You’re making your own distractions. The game is simple: don’t blink. You think not looking will make it easier, but it’s been a struggle, hasn’t it?” he asked, his voice sweetening with every word.

The tickle of my hair in my eyes got worse. I puffed a breath up, trying to dislodge it, but it stubbornly refused to move. He snickered softly and I scowled despite the panic fluttering in my stomach. What if just one eye closed? Would I lose? No, I couldn’t lose because of some stupid fluke! My eyelid flickered spastically. If I could just get one hand free...

At that moment, Dark released me, but before I could move he tucked the errant strand back himself. I froze as he brushed through my hair in one long, tender stroke. Goosebumps tingled along my body. He ran through it once more, the tips of his fingers skating along my scalp, his touch electric on my flesh. It was the kind of sensation you wanted to bask in with your eyes closed, shutting out everything else.

But I couldn’t. I had to focus. I couldn’t fall into this tender trap.

“ _Cassidy…_ ” Dark crooned, his voice rumbling over my flesh. No, not my name in that velvet voice. I groaned as it thrummed in my veins all the way down to my core. Pressure built at the base of my spine, unyielding and tense. “You’re overthinking this. Just _look_ ,” he murmured, encasing my face in his smooth hands, guiding my gaze back up to his. I resisted…just a little.

Smooth, undulating shadows beckoned me from the depths of his eyes, and once and for all I was caught. He brushed his thumbs along my overheated cheeks, a smile ghosting over his lips. Pulses radiated out from the brand, lining up with my thundering heartbeat, sending me further away from my fear…further away from my will…further into his shadows. 

It occurred to me somewhere in the back of my mind that I had a task at hand. “Dark…how much longer?” I murmured, my eyelids straining to their limit.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” He teased.

“No!” I blurted, opening my eyes even wider, proving to him I wasn’t. “I just…it…it hurts.” The moisture in my eyes was building, making the annoying itch become a bloom of smarting fire in them. “Can’t I go home? Just let me go.”

His hand on my back slipped down to the base of my spine and I pressed my lips together in a vain attempt at stopping a low moan. “Oh, why would you want to leave? Why would you want to be anywhere else?” His hand trailed slowly back up, skimming chills along my backbone. My mouth dropped open, a funny, breathless squeak rising up from the back of my throat. “ _This_ is the only place you need to be,” he whispered, gently laying his forehead against mine. His touch sank into me and I sighed in spite of myself. I tried my best to keep my mind focused, to forget about how close he was to me. It was no use, his eyes took over everything, became all I knew. The muscle spasms in my eyelids were getting worse. I wanted to close my eyes so badly. And then again, I never wanted to stop looking into his. “ _I’m_ the only one you need to watch.”

Emotions and sensations filled me from head to toe, too much to hold against. I hitched in a breath, stinging tears welling up in my eyes. It was both a relief and a trial, the moisture reviving them but also burning them so badly. I needed to blink. This had to end. But I wouldn’t give in. Never. My last card to play—as much as I hated it—needed to happen now. “I…please, Dark? _Please_?”

Somewhere behind those shadows, I saw something that I simultaneously hoped for and dreaded. He seemed at war with himself, but not in a conflicted way. It seemed more like weighing his options. “Hmm, you _have_ been a good sport about this whole business. Let’s make it ten seconds and you win. Fair enough? I’ll even let you count it down.” That sly, sensuous smile spread across his face. “Yeah, go ahead. Count down from ten. And no looking away.”   

There it was. The true challenge. No loopholes this time. Taking a deep breath, I forced my eyes open as wide as I could and delved deeply into his, determined to make this happen. “Ten…nine…urm, eight…s-seven…ahhhhh…ssixxx…” I felt my lips go sluggish and lazy, stumbling over my words as I lost myself in those soft shadows. My heart was beating so fast, the rush of blood making me dizzy. “Five…fff-four…”  

Smiling softly, he laid a finger over my lips. “Shhhh…I’ve got this,” he hushed, dropping into that seductive, silken tone again. Curling one hand around the back of my neck, his fingers toyed with my hair, urging me to lean into it. His cool breath flowed over my lips which subtly parted as he inched even closer to me. “Three…two…one. _Blink.”_

For the smallest moment, I didn’t want to shut out the darkness in those eyes. But there was no way to stop it and my eyes slipped shut. I swayed a little and his arm tightened around me, pulling me against his body. His breath poured over my neck and I shuddered, teetering on a blade’s edge of control. A bit of my mind that escaped those peaceful shadows screamed all kinds of warnings to me, steadily growing more and more silent by the moment. I didn’t care. Barely aware I was doing it, I lifted my chin, baring the brand to him.

The firm press of his mouth woke me up a little, a cold jolt that melted into a bone-softening heat. My eyes popped open with a gasp and my hands sank into his hair to stop him. But I was the one who stopped, the urge to escape fading as his silken hair slid through my fingers. He swirled the tip of his tongue over the spiral marking for an agonizing moment, nearly overwhelming my senses. I felt him smile against my neck. Then came the gentle pull, the subtle suckling of my flesh. Moaning, I closed my eyes and tightened my grip on his hair, my knees wobbling loose under me. As he pulled again—firmer, hungrier—I slid my hands through that nest of black silk, using the last of my strength to clutch his neck as he went on drinking in that darkness. 

I was weightless then, drifting away. I felt no floor under me, no flow of air around us. There was the embrace of those arms, his chest rising and falling against me. Nothing else. All was darkness. All was peace. All became nothing…

Then there was softness under me, cradling me comfortably. The tug of gravity came back, sinking my body into whatever lay under me. Gone was the touch of his mouth as I slowly came to, shifting sleepily around. Breathing in deeply, I smelled the lingering mélange of pizza, a whiff of alcohol, and coffee flavored with chocolatey spice. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know where I was. He’d kept his word after all; I was home.

And I wasn’t alone.

The cushions under me sank on both sides, depressed by a pair of hands. My eyes twitched open, flying to their widest when they met his. As had been the case last night, most of him was built of smoky darkness in the vague form of his body, but this time he was solid from the chest up, his hands deep in the upholstery while the rest of him floated easily over me. There was no room for me to move away from him. Trapped.

Black eyes rolled in amused exasperation. “Oh don’t give me that look. So dramatic. Although…your eyes do look lovely when they fill with fear. So big and bright,” he purred, his own eyes filling with something I recognized but didn’t want to name. I didn’t dare answer him—I didn’t trust words in my own mouth. All that would come out was a stumbling string of nonsense or worse, some visceral moan after what he’d done to me. “Don’t sweat it, Cassidy. Our game is done…for now. You won. I lost.” He sighed a bit, putting on an exaggerated pout. Like a snake striking, he took hold of my chin and inched closer. My hands shot up into his hair, the texture even silkier in his shadowy form. Gripping tightly, I pulled with all my strength even though I couldn’t move him, hoping that I was causing him just a little pain if nothing else. A hiss of air escaped him, not pained, but excited.

“Wha-what, what are you…what are you doing here?” I stammered, my lips as clumsy as I expected. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

Leaning into my face, his eyes soft and serious, he brushed the tip of my nose with his. “Certainly I deserve a consolation prize, wouldn’t you agree?” Without another word, without waiting for my response, he closed the gap and captured my mouth.

For an instant, everything slowed to a crawl. My heartbeat sounded like a lazy drum, my breaths a drawn out hissing. He ran his tongue along my lower lip and drew it into his mouth, nipping it gently. The sharp sensation brought time back to itself and I gasped, my mouth opening wider to let him in. Crushing his lips into mine, he growled and delved in further. I didn’t stop the welling moan in my throat this time, losing myself completely in the mingling of heat and cold, fear and passion. I writhed and groaned, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Why I gave in so easily, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. Control had no meaning. Fear had no meaning.

Like snuffing out a light, or introducing brilliance to darkness, Dark ended the kiss. My head fell back against the couch, my wits spinning. Sharp, staccato breaths shivered through me, like I’d run for miles in the summer. My vision swam in and out of focus, drowning in light and shadow.

Still hovering above me, he traced an outline along my jaw, his touch a spike of cold that sharpened my senses. When our eyes met, his were clouded, unfocused for a second, but it passed and they became clear and glittering again. “Ah…well…that was fun,” he grinned with a wink, the air around his face going smoky. Waving his hand nonchalantly in farewell, he faded before my eyes, a dark chuckle echoing in the room. “Let’s play again soon…”

Blinking rapidly, my eyes still strained from the game, I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. Laying my head on my knees, I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the telltale heat between my thighs, pressing them together to suppress it. It wasn’t there. It didn’t exist. It _didn’t._

“You are a creep…” I moaned, punching my fists into the sofa. I drew a searing breath, my body sweaty and aching. He made me _ache_ and I hated it.

Grumbling, I got up and staggered into the bathroom, feeling the need for another bath. My skin felt sticky with sweat and what I assumed was dried blood. Looking into the mirror, I was relieved to see that wasn’t the case. Dirt clung to my skin and I looked a bit haggard, but really no worse for the wear. Even my clothes were untouched. Maybe he’d left less of that ordeal on me than I thought.

And then I saw it.

Leaning closer to the mirror, looking deeply into my brown eyes, I could just make out a new difference. Almost unnoticeable, but there to stay. Another “gift” of his.

A thin band of intense blackness ringing the outer edge of the brown iris.  
  
This time, I didn't care who I disturbed when I screamed.


	13. Enough Of This Shit

A week passed with no sign of him. Not a whisper in the corners of my mind. Not one errant pulse under the brand. The first few days were filled with paranoia, let me tell you, but after that I took it as a blessing. Maybe it was a sign that I’d finally beaten his games, or at least he’d gotten what he wanted out of me and was gone for good. My life went back to normal, simple days of school, work, and the occasional cup of coffee with the girls.

When the week ended, I started seeing things. In the corners of dim rooms, and sometimes in the full sun of a crisp day, dark things swarmed in tiny clouds of black. The shadows. And it wasn’t just things to see. I could heard them. Many times I caught myself staring into them, letting their writhing dance steal my attention as they whispered and sang to me in the depths of my mind. I knew no one else saw or heard them. They couldn’t. Only I had the gift.

HIS gift. That swirl of darkness at my throat…those inky black rings encircling my irises.

Was this how I was meant to go on? Every time he came to me he’d give me more darkness until I…what? Became like him? Until it simply consumed me? The strangest thing I quickly found was that I couldn’t make myself believe these dark thoughts anymore. They just sounded wrong. Weeks ago, I would’ve believed the worst. Now I was just more confused. The one question I’d stopped asking by then was “why”. I’d already gotten my answer from him.

Because he wanted to.

Then, it all reached a long overdue head.

Nothing odd about this particular day, or any odder than the days had been. I was done with my classes and ready to relax, though I carried a bit of paranoia—but that was second nature to me by now (was that a shadow…did I just hear that?) Dropping my bag at the doorstep as I entered my apartment, I shook off the early winter chill. Everything felt numb and I stomped my feet to shake some warmth into my limbs. Exams loomed in the coming weeks, then the long-awaited break for the holidays. Still, I couldn’t find any motivation or any joy. The numbness wasn’t just from the cold weather. I felt like I was experiencing everything through a veil. I plopped down on the couch and pulled the throw blanket around me, trying to pull warmth and comfort into my body again.

Quiet…it was too quiet. Loneliness closed around me, and I curled deeper into the couch away from it. On reflex, I softly touched the brand, almost looking for an answering shudder beneath it.

“I know you’re there,” I sighed, the silence in the room too oppressive for me. “Just come out. Stop doing this to me. _Stop_ …”

No answer. No tremble. The shadows were still and silent. I hated this silence. Too easily my thoughts began racing all over the place, trying to keep occupied on anything else but him. Impossible. He’d made it impossible for me with one kiss.

I thought about it every day. When I’d only felt his mouth on my neck, suckling the hidden darkness out of me, I thought about it, sure, but I was able to shake it off and let it leave my mind. But that kiss… It seemed impossible that one kiss could be so good that it would haunt me every day, but it was that good. It was incredible. The caress of those smooth lips…his tongue that didn’t invade but entreated and teased…even the coolness of his skin was intoxicating now, softening the hardened fire in mine.

And now I found myself wondering more and more…what would that mouth feel like in other places? Softer, secret places. No matter how many times I told myself to stop, I couldn’t. Many a night I’d gone to bed with my mind filled with simmering thoughts that left me breathless and blushing.

It wasn’t just the shadows in my waking moments. My dreams had become a new stage for his darkness. Most of the time I’d wake up barely remembering them, but I knew he’d been there. I felt his shadows lingering after I’d woken up, following me around. And the ones I did remember…I didn’t want to think about them. Not because they were awful or horrific, but because they were…god, they were so good. Too good.

“Dark,” I murmured as I let my tired eyes close, that small weak part of me letting in the warm memories of the touch of his hands, of his mouth, setting my heart racing and my skin alive with sensations…

…I opened my eyes, and the darkness that greeted me told me too late that I’d closed them too long. Caught once more. This time I wasn’t floating or falling, just standing in the darkness with solid unseen ground beneath my feet. There he stood, his pale skin gleaming against the blackness surrounding us. A calm smile rested on his face, a smile that might have been reassuring if it wasn’t him. No more than a few feet separated us.

“This is a dream.” It wasn’t a question, but I couldn’t help the tiniest inflection of doubt at the end.

He nodded, down, up, and down again, his smile lifting just a bit.  “This is a gift,” he answered softly. “I just couldn’t bear to see you looking so sad and lonely.” One foot slipped in front of the other, closing the distance between us slowly as a predatory animal sizing up an easy meal.

I backpedaled, a sliver of panic speeding up my heart. “Stay away.”

Snickering, he came on. “Ungrateful. _You_ called on _me_ , remember?”

“I don’t care. I’m waking up.” Focusing my thoughts, I stood perfectly still and told myself over and over to wake up, to open my eyes and make him disappear. “Go away.” My hands went into my hair and balled up into my fists, trying to force myself awake with a little pain. “Wake up.” Strands of hair snapped in my hands. “Wake up!”

“Stop that…”

A cold shock made my eyes pop open when his hands closed around my wrists. Looking up, I was shocked to find him right in front of me. The world around us hadn’t changed: yawning darkness all around. Slowly, my hands relaxed and he guided them away from my hair until they hung defeated at my sides. “It…it’s _my_ dream. I want to wake up,” I muttered miserably. I waited vainly for a reply, but the mocking glint in his eyes spoke to me as plainly as if he’d spoken aloud. It had been a while since he first pulled me into his world, but I remembered clearly what he told me about shades and about what they do.

_We hold sway over the dreams of our hosts…_

So of course I couldn’t change things. This _was_ my dream, but it was still _his_ world. His playground. And it wasn’t any less real than playing those games of his.

“There, that’s better,” he murmured, running a hand up my arm, trailing shadows across my skin. They tingled and a shudder went through me, my knees shaking. Circling his arm around my waist, he closed the gap between us a bit more. Gasping, I pressed my hands against his shoulders, pushing away from him, but he didn’t let me get far. “Who are you being so brave for?” His smooth voice boomed around the nexus of gray and black, returning many times over. I shook my head and shrank away. His hold around me tightened a bit. “Why do you fight me so hard?”

Any instinct I had to get away melted with a soft moan as his every touch slipped through my skin, his voice clouding my head until I was dizzy, leading me to gradually lean closer to him. “I…I’m…”

“You’re what? Afraid?” He leaned in and nuzzled against my neck. I tossed my head to the side, embarrassment flushing my face. “Of course you are…poor thing.” Weakly, I squirmed in his grasp, but it only made him chuckle and tighten his grip. “What are you afraid of, hm?” He whispered, his mouth barely brushing my ear, lingering just long enough to tickle but not fully touch the sensitive skin. I panted and gasped as his hands began gliding down my back, weakening me further. “Answer me.”

“Not of you!” I growled, suddenly shoving hard against him. The admission seemed to give him pause. His hands stopped moving and he raised his head from my throat to look at me squarely. Running a finger along my jaw, he drew my gaze deeper into his. “I’m…afraid of…of…” My mouth went dry as I choked back the truth. I couldn’t say it. I wouldn’t. Even if he knew, I would never say it. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, a sliver of confidence barely breaking though the haze I still felt. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Shadows swam around us, gently pressing us closer together. “Sure. Sure you aren’t,” he whispered with a smile, cupping my cheek in his hand and tilting my face up a little more. My eyes closed, shutting out everything but his touch.

A pulse went through the dream, momentarily chasing the darkness away. The edges of the darkness wavered, brightening the shadows into grays. He looked around and sighed, a look of genuine disappointment crossing his face. “Oh, is it that time already?”

I shook my head, a bit muddled from his wandering caresses. “What?”

“Time to go back to sleep.”

“But…but I am asleep. You just said this is a dream.”

“Of course it is. And isn’t it far more interesting? So much more real than anything you can experience out there in that sleepy world.” The light was growing stronger, illuminating him from behind. I felt him drawing closer, his cold breath raising chills on me. “I can wake you up in more ways than you know.”

Moaning, I closed my eyes and felt myself go limp, giving into his arms and his voice.

“Let me wake you up. Wake up… _wake up…_ ”

…My eyes popped open and the dream fell away. Sitting bolt upright, I rubbed at my arms to relieve the chill he left on me, a chill that mingled strangely with the heat I felt in my blood. I punched the pillows and growled, trying to force a bit of anger into the dismay that quickly welled up at the loss of the dream. Why couldn’t I just feel hate or longing? Why was it just a strange of mix of both, his touch awakening every nerve with fire and fear? He wasn’t even here, not really. Then again, he was never truly gone.

“Is this what it feels like to be crazy?” I asked the empty room, half expecting one of the newly awakened shadows to answer me in their low, hushed susurrations. “Is he trying to drive me insane?” Silence was the only answer.

With a huff, I got off the couch and went to the kitchen. The pot of coffee I made that morning still sat there and I emptied it into a large mug. It smelled a bit stale but I wasn’t really in the mood to make a new one, so it would have to do. I stuck it in the microwave and set the timer. A quick peek in the fridge showed me a not-so-fresh carton of milk. I confirmed it with a quick, much regretted sniff and tossed it in the trash. The high pitched beep of the microwave made me cringe, still very much on edge from the dream. I took out the cup and dumped a couple spoons full of sugar into it. As I raised it to my lips, I cringed again, knowing I was kidding myself, but I drank it anyway.

My throat seized up as the black liquid touched my tongue. Grimacing, I spit it into the sink, running the faucet to quickly wash the filthy taste out of my mouth. Grit from the grounds that leaked into the pot left a dirty feeling in my mouth. Pushing the mug of disgust aside, I shut the water off and leaned over the sink. Everything felt so off, so wrong. Why did it feel awful to be here, but strangely peaceful to be…there?

No, fuck this. I was going to do something about this right now. Slapping my palm onto the counter, I went back into the living room and felt around the cushions for my phone, punching a number into it.

Waited…ringing… “Hellooo?”

“Lila?”

“Cas! What’s up?”

“>Sniffle< My coffee tastes like mud…”

A beat of silence. “On the way sweetie.”

Lila got to my place in record time, a pair of fresh Buzzer’s coffees in her hands. “Happy beverages to the rescue,” she smiled, although it faltered a bit when she saw my weak attempt at returning it.

I took one and tore the lid off, the tiny sipping hole inadequate for my drinking needs. Taking a long sip of it, I couldn’t stop a grin as I tasted spice and rich nuts. “Mm, experimenting at work?”

She shrugged. “They know who they’re working with. I’ve brought in more business for them than they could hope for in a tiny college town.”

“Oh, you’re so disgustingly modest.” The tension in my body eased up gradually and I took another sip. Nothing that my Lila and a good cup couldn’t fix. Of course, I wasn’t anywhere near fixing things, but that would come soon enough. I wasn’t going to spend all my time wringing my hands and worrying about these insane feelings. And wondering if they truly were insane… _quit it!_

“So, you didn’t just need me for a coffee run did you? Because I’d be pretty offended to be your gopher after all this time.” She gave a short huff, looking jokingly disgruntled. Able to smile fully at last, I took her hand and led her to the couch.

“Yeah, about that.” My voice stopped up for a moment, unsure of what to say or how much to explain. But there would be no lies. Not this time. “I guess…I haven’t…I don’t feel right. I don’t feel like myself…”

“You’ve been having strange dreams lately?” Her voice sounded so smoky and deep. I looked up, horrified for a moment at the slasher smile she wore. Unable to suppress it, she burst out laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist,” she chuckled, covering her mouth.

Groaning, I covered my face with one hand, my cheeks hot against my cold fingertips. “Not quite funny,” I grumbled. Everywhere. He just HAD to be everywhere.

“Sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

I cleared my throat a bit, ignoring the redoubled beat of my heart as I pressed ahead. “Winter break is coming, and we haven’t had our true and proper ladies’ night since the game night,” I explained, watching her large blue eyes twinkle with anticipation. “I don’t want to miss out on that. Exams will be here soon and it will be even harder to do.” Her hand fluttered around her purse where I knew her phone was. Good, she got the idea. “I don’t have work tonight and the tips have been great this week.”

“Then I’ll get to texting. What should I say?”

I thought for a moment, mulling it over. What would completely relax me and make me blissfully happy?

Almost immediately, my body flushed and I swear I heard it: that silky, playful laugh unheard by any but me. Rampant tingles spread through my body and I could nearly feel those skimming fingertips against my flesh. _NOT THAT!_

Lila stopped typing and frowned at me. “Cas, you okay? You’re all red.”

Sweat tingled on my brow and I swiped at it frantically. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Probably a caffeine rush.”

“You sure? Maybe that’s why you’ve been feeling weird, maybe you’re sick.”

_Oh, I’m sick all right. That the only explanation for this…sick sick sick._ “Nope, I’m good, and this is happening tonight.” Shoving the salacious feeling aside, I figured out the perfect night. A pastime that worked to cement our friendship from the beginning. “Karaoke Roulette.”

Lila’s entire face went up like a firework, a happy laugh bursting out of her. “Awesome!” She caught up her purse and started texting again as she went to the door. “Two hours enough time to get ready?”

“What am I, a Kardashian? An hour is plenty. We’ll all go to dinner first, then head to Roulette. Cool?”

She nodded. “Very cool. Make sure you bring a jacket.”

“Make sure you don’t text and drive.”

She laughed and waved, closing the door behind her. Remembering the last time the door closed on a friend, I waited for the silence to become deafening, for solitude to weigh on my mind. But it didn’t. The air remained easy and pleasantly still. The shadows were just that, dark spots caused by obstructing the light, not writhing creatures only I could see. I felt…really good. Better than I felt all week. This was it, the turning point.

“And there’s nothing you can do about it,” I asserted to the empty room, even though I knew it wasn’t truly empty. Fine, let it be. I’d show him he wasn’t going to keep me down.


	14. A Good, Good Night

About an hour later, a loud honking announced the arrival of my darlings. A tad early, but I was ready. I slipped on a pair of short black boots and paused by the door, taking a peek at the long mirror hanging on it. Smoky charcoal eyes, pale shimmer on my lips, my short brown hair tousled just right. I pulled at the hem of my flouncy purple dress, its mid-thigh length a bit short for the cool evening, but we’d be inside most of the night anyway. Taking Lila’s advice, I grabbed my studded black denim jacket from the hook and put it on. Damn, I looked good.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and swept outside, striking a pose. Hoots and whistles tumbled out of the windows of Meg’s SUV as I approached. She poked her head out the window and gave me a thumbs up. “Woo, Cas, look at you!”

“I gotta go back home. This chick is showing me up,” Hannah said with an exaggerated pout.

Laughing, I jumped in and buckled up, playfully bumping her shoulder. “You look adorable, shut up.”

As I settled in, a chorus of suggestions on where to eat rose up, pleading against various fare—“no more pizza”, “I can’t eat another burger”.

“Why don’t we just let Lila cook? This was her idea,” Georgia piped up.

Lila tittered. “Actually it was Cas’s idea. So if you wanna go by that logic…”

I snorted, knowing she was just kidding. “So, Spaghetti-Os and Pop-Tarts? Heh, no. Meg’s driving, she can pick the place since I already picked the bar.”

Meg tapped the steering wheel in thought. “How about Shenanigans? It’s right across from Roulette, so we only have to drive to one place. Good?”

Agreements were nodded and cheered and soon we were rumbling along to our destination. I snuggled against the cushioned seat, my grin slowly growing. “ _I got a feeling!”_ I sang slowly, casting a sly look around the car.

The girls giggled and Meg let out a belting, “ _Wooo Hooo!_ “

That set off the rest of us.

_“That tonight’s gonna be a good night!_

_That tonight’s gonna be a good night!_

_That tonight’s gonna be a good-good night!”_

After that, the song became a blurring blather of various versions of the song. We kind of made it a point not to really sing the rest of the song correctly as an inside joke, which honestly was more fun than singing the actual words. By the time we got to the restaurant, we were red-faced and breathless from giggling.

Scrambling out of the SUV, we linked arms and straightened up. “Storm the place, ladies!” Lila said authoritatively and together we strode in, doing our best to look like a badass squad of hotties, not a stumbling gigglefest. The hostess gave us a brief glower but pasted on a big smile and welcomed us in, signaling to a waitress who quickly seated us. Whatever. We always tipped nicely, so any complaints they might have would evaporate before the night was over.

After a good meal and lots of great conversation, we paid up (nice tips and all) and made our way to Roulette, one of the remaining smokeless bars within a twenty mile radius. We refused to hang or sing anywhere else as a result: smoke wreaked havoc on the lungs and the vocal chords. Besides, not one of us liked the prospect of capping off an amazing night of fun with soaking clothes in Febreeze before washing them twice. It was also a pretty fun place conceptually with its toned down Vegas feel. Not too ritzy but no dive either. The gambling theme went everywhere, from the drink list to the jukebox. The karaoke stage was our favorite. While most patrons used it for drunken confessions and trying to do justice to various “hit songs”, we used it for Karaoke Roulette. The rules were simple: money goes in, press shuffle, and the song that came up was the one you had to sing. An objection could be made once per girl but it had to be backed up with a valid reason, like the range being too high or the song offending you on a personal level. If the objection held, you were given another shuffle, but that was it. If you landed on “Barbie Girl” after that, you were doomed to sing it. That happened to me once. Gave me the heebie-jeebies for days.

After we signed our names to the set list, we found a corner booth and took our seats, Meg waving to a friend serving drinks. “So, shot wheel now or later?”

The general consensus was now, and it was the smarter choice. Get the quick drinks out of the way and nurse the mixed ones as the night wore on. None of us really planned to get too drunk when we went out singing. It wrecked the vocal chords and you always ran the risk of warbling drunkenly and embarrassing yourself.  

The waitress weaved through the early evening crowd and stationed herself next to Meg. “Hey gals! What can I get for you?”

Meg reached around her waist and gave her a squeeze. “One shot wheel and an order of cheese fries, Tabbie. And five waters?” She asked the table. Again, a resounding agreement came back. Tabbie took down the order and wove back through the crowd toward the bar.

Hannah turned towards the stage, nodding appreciatively. “This guy’s pretty good. Not going to pay to see his concert, but not too bad.”

Looking up, I took in the scene. A slightly inebriated guy, trying his best to soberly do justice to “Old Time Rock ‘n’ Roll” by Bob Seger. Hannah was right, he was fairly good. That was another cool facet of karaoke night: discovering new folks that could actually hold a tune. It’s how our little group adopted Hannah.

Grinning, I thought about the day I discovered that Mark could sing. I always had a feeling that he could; there was a resonance to his voice that was almost musical in itself. A reply to one of my comments on YouTube directed me to the “Five Nights at Freddy’s Musical” by Random Encounters. It was awesome. Such a lovely, charming voice, especially on the lower notes. Ooh, those gave me goosebumps.

_Could Dark sing?_

Well, that was a weird thought. It almost made me laugh out loud. How silly was it to think of something like that? It was too…human for him. Too soft, but no matter how many times I told myself it was ridiculous, I wondered…

_Could he?_ He matched Mark in just about every other aspect, and Mark could most definitely sing. If Dark’s black velvet speaking voice was any indication of…whether or not he could...sing…

The light in the room suddenly flickered before my eyes. I pressed my hands to my cheeks, feeling them heat up under my fingers as my imagination began to run with the idea. My focus faded further, thinking back to the softly undulating shadows deep in his eyes…their ebb and flow…

“Hey, Cas. Cassidy? Yoohoo!”

Georgia’s waving hand broke up the light in my vision, her voice cutting through my increasingly distracted thinking. “Uh…I’m sorry, what?” I asked a little breathlessly. Holy crap, had the room always been this warm?

Lila turned in her chair, her attention pulled back from the singer on stage. Her eyes grew concerned when she saw my face. “That’s the second time you’ve gone tomato-faced tonight. Are you sure you’re feeling well, hon?”

Meg giggled, jostling Lila. “Oh come on. She’s not sick, unless you count loooooovesick! She’s got a guy on the brain!”

My heart sped up unexpectedly, sending a fresh rush of blood right up to my face. “I-I do not,” I chuckled nervously. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I swiped at it frantically. No good, they saw it.

“Oh please tell me this isn’t a repeat of that French major last year.” Georgia sighed dramatically, pressing her hands to her cheeks to hide a nonexistent blush. “‘Oh God, I don’t know what he’s saying half the time, but it sounds soooo sexy!’”

Pouting, I clamped down on the impulse to smack my hands on the table like a brat, sitting back with a huff. “For your information, no it’s not like that. It’s…I mean, he’s not-“

“Ah-HA! So there IS a guy,” Hannah crowed. That set off the whole table into a fit. Questions about where we met, what he was like, was he cute, did he have friends, one right after the other spinning around me like a swarm.

“Stop, stop, hold on, it’s not like that,” I begged over the din, nervously noticing the surrounding tables getting annoyed at our chatter. Besides, being thrust into the spotlight of conversation just made not thinking about him so much harder. Impossible, actually. Nervously, I rubbed the brand, telling myself the pulse under it was mine. Just my normal, everyday, racing, dizzying pulse.

The girls went quiet and Hannah put her arm around me. “Aw, sorry. If you don’t want to talk about him that’s fine.” The others nodded apologetically, murmuring assent, though a stray giggle popped up here and there. I let free a long sigh and swirled the ice around in my glass. That was close.

Lila leaned closer to me, quietly clearing her throat. “Restroom please,” she murmured in my ear, getting up and stretching. “Be right back, one hell of a Long Island…”

I watched her walk to the back of the bar and sighed. Guess it was heart to heart time again. I certainly didn’t want this hanging over my head all night. “Me too. No having fun until we get back.” Getting up, I followed Lila’s path, vaguely taking notice of the appreciative glances I was getting. I straightened up a bit, grinning. No harm in enjoying that. Why not add an extra swish? This outfit earned me a few free drinks more than once already.

Lila was fixing her make up as I swished in. “Lila, look I-”

“I thought we were past this.” There was hurt in her voice and it stung me deeply. She turned to me with a cool look in her eyes. “You know you don’t need to hide things from us. First about that weirdo stalker that set off the game night, now this mystery man you seem hellbent on not talking about. Oh god.” Worry sharpened her eyes. “This isn’t the same guy is it? Tell me this guy isn’t-”

“Lila, relax. I can honestly say that no, this guy is not the same guy from weeks ago.” The irony that I was being completely truthful was lost on her, but certainly not me. Because it was true; the Dark I met weeks ago was not the same Dark now. Or perhaps he was the same and I was the one changing. Both scenarios seemed plausible and I wasn’t sure which one worried me more. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore and it was all his fault. “We…aren’t anything, really. This is…it’s a…I don’t know.”

“Just a crazy crush?”

It was as good an explanation as any. “I…yeah, I guess.”

Lila sighed and pulled me into a hug. “We all have one of those, believe me. Well, whoever this mystery man is, he’s got to go through our rigorous screening process to prove he’s good enough for you.”

Rolling my eyes, I squeezed her back and pulled away. “Oh I can imagine the deep, penetrating questions you guys would ask.”

She chuckled, giving her hair a final fluff before going toward the door. I decided to primp a little too, pulling my lip shimmer out of my purse. Carefully I shaped a fresh line of gloss around my lips.

The lips he kissed. The lips that kissed him back.

The pinkish wand slipped in my hand, drawing an iridescent line past the corner of my mouth. My cheeks filled with blood as I replayed that incredible moment in my mind again. Waves of pleasant warmth prickled in my stomach and sank deep into my center. Groaning, I grabbed a fresh paper towel and wiped the errant gloss away, wishing I could wipe out the irrational emotions I felt as easily.

 Lila’s snicker pulled my attention away from my reflection. “You’ve got it baa-aad…”

“Smartass!” I hissed, tossing the crumpled towel at her as she slipped out the door with a triumphant cackle. Bracing my hands against the sink, I dared a look into my own eyes. The blackness ringing the brown haunted me. Part of me expected—hoped—to see his face somewhere behind mine, just to prove to myself that _he_ was the cause of these feelings and it wasn’t me. On and on I stared until I felt my eyes sting, never considering the option of blinking. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I was waiting on the shadows to spread and blot out my eyes like they did his. If I looked deep enough, maybe it would happen. Those enticing, billowing shadows would overtake my vision again, catching me in their tide to pull me under.

But it didn’t happen. My eyes remained mine. Was I disappointed? What the fuck was going on with me? Shaking my head furiously, I blinked rapidly to restore moisture to my eyes as I pushed away from the sink. “Damn you, Dark.” My cheeks lit my face like a stoplight all the way back to the table. Lila was all smiles once more, sitting between Meg and Georgia, a steaming plate of cheese-smothered fries and the Lazy Susan of ten varied and colorful shots set it in the center of our table. “Aw, sorry I made you guys wait,” I murmured.

Georgia took hold of the small wooden peg on the edge of the turntable. “No problem. Sit sit sit,” she ordered and gave it a smooth spin. Chuckling, I watched the rainbow of booze spin round and round, slowing and stopping to deposit our fates in front of us. Each of us picked up their shot and examined it, trying to decipher the ingredients. Mine was bright blue with a syrupy layer of red at the bottom. “Hm, nice and simple,” I said, picking it up. The tingling scent of blue curacao and vodka floated up from the tiny glass. “Bottoms up.” The girls raised their shots and we tossed them back. The burn went smoothly and pleasantly down into a pool within my stomach. I shivered and went immediately for my water glass. A bit stronger than I expected and awfully sweet, but I welcomed the warm rush blooming in my blood. Partaking in these froofroo shots was mostly for fun; we all preferred a stiff shot of rum or whiskey.

“Mmm, good one!” Meg hummed, licking her lips.

Hannah’s face screwed up into a weird grimace. “Ew, I can’t _stand_ buttery nipples!” A beat of silence passed over us as we took in what she said, then we all burst into laughter. Hannah blew a raspberry at us. “Shaddup,” she mumbled, downing nearly her entire glass of water to wash out the unpleasant taste.

Lila composed herself first. “Did anyone see the names before us? How long do we have to wait?”

I thought back trying to remember if it was a girl’s or guy’s name before ours. I think it was two guys and one girl, in that order, but I wasn’t sure. “Hang on, I’ll go check,” I offered, snatching a couple cheesy fries as I got up. “Don’t spin the wheel until I get back.”

A few weaves in and around the crowd got me back to the stage. Peeking over someone’s shoulder, I scanned the list, seeing just one name before Meg’s and then it was my turn. My stomach did a flip. I loved that giddy nervous feeling right before performing. Some people thought it was fear or aversion, but I knew as much as the other girls that it was nervous energy that fueled us.

Making my way back, I saw Georgia bobbing a little excitedly in her seat. “Ohhh, the pickings are nice tonight,” she giggled. “There is a sweet looking cowboy by the stage, pearl snaps and all.”

Lila snickered. “Georgie’s in looooooove…”

Shaking my head, I reached for the spinning peg and spun the wheel. “I think I saw your cowboy by the stage…with a sweet little belle on his arm.”

Georgia groaned dramatically. “Dream killer!”

I held up my hands. “Hey, I could be wrong.” The wheel slowed to a stop, settling a dark brown shot before me. “Ooo, what’s this?” I picked it up and sniffed it. Notes of intense coffee and dark chocolate greeted me. I sipped the edge carefully then tipped it back, relishing the deep chocolate flavor and bitter end of the coffee. Humming happily, I sat back in the chair and basked in the warmth of alcohol in my blood. “Ohhhh I like that,” I murmured.

Meg’s hand rapidly fluttered on the table, a staccato rhythm of excitement. “Well, _I_ like _that_!”

Georgia followed her line of sight over my shoulder to the front door. “What?”

“Over there, front bar, hot goth,” she answered quickly, a hot red blush rising on her cheeks.

I turned with a laugh, searching the ever growing crowd of patrons for whoever was so intriguing. “Where? I see no such goth.”

The music from the karaoke stage kicked in, a sultry country ballad with a deep twang to it. The cute cowboy Georgia saw, no doubt. He gestured and gyrated up on stage, pointing to someone I couldn’t quite see. He was good, no doubt, but to me, country songs were so obvious and overt.

Meg pointed as subtly as she could without looking like a complete spazz. “Over there. Okay, maybe he’s not goth, but he’s dark.”

That word sent a shiver up my spine, even though I knew that for one thing, that wasn’t what she meant, and the second was it was absolutely impossible.

“Ooooo, yes indeed, he’s hot.”

“I saw him first.”

I tucked my feet under the footbar on the stool and pushed up, craning my neck to see this absolute god the girls were losing it over.

Then, I saw. The impossible came true, and the music took on new meaning.

“ _When you came in, the air went out/ and every shadow filled up with doubt.”_

In the soft lights near the bar, his skin gleamed pale and cool, not gray like I was used to but just as unseen by the sun as I remembered. The gentle fall of jet black hair still, STILL somehow moving in its own currents. I could still feel its silky texture running through my hands. Our eyes met across the distance, a spark in the darkness. And those eyes…those eyes…black as dead stars and with just as much pull. I gasped in surprise and I knew he heard it. Felt it.

“ _I don’t know who you think you are but I know this much is true/ I wanna do bad things with you…_

_I wanna do real bad things with you…”_


	15. By A Moment

He was here. HERE. He wasn’t just this shrouded ghost that only I could sense anymore. Perfectly at ease, he moved to take a seat at the bar, smoothly ordering a drink. From here I could see the bartender’s cheeks get pinker, her eyes flicking away from his shyly. I frowned. He looked so natural in my world, and that’s what made it intensely wrong to me. Among the crowd, most would think him unremarkable, but I could feel his energy even from a distance. Honestly, I should have known better. Wasn’t it his prerogative to pop up and annoy me like this? His brow twitched a little, sending a dark furrow across his face. Something like an echo of him shifted away from his body. I felt that shiver of power like a finger running up my spine. The thin shadow danced on the air, forming into his smug, grinning face. It gave me a wink then settled back. His sly yet placid smile returned to smooth the tension out of his face. Judging by the fact that no one else was freaking out, it seemed that it was a private performance for my eyes only. I was dimly aware of the girls chatting and comparing opinions around the table.  
  
No, no, no. This was bad.  
  
Please, don’t ask me. Please. PLEASE.  
  
My inner pleas went ignored as Georgia jostled me. “Well, come on Cas, what do you think?” I ripped my gaze away from him and grabbed my water, taking a long swig that froze my throat. I coughed a little, prompting her to thump me on the back. “Ah, I see.”  
  
Clearing my throat, I looked at her, puzzled. “See what? I was thirsty.”  
  
“Yeah, I bet. You were about to burn a hole right through him with how you were staring,” Lila smirked, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
_It would take a lot more than me staring to burn him,_ I thought, unable to keep a soft, nervous chuckle from coming up. “Uh, no. I wasn’t-“  
  
A smattering of applause and whistling alerted us to the close of the cowboy’s song and snapping me out of the snowballing panic building in my head. Whew, that was close.  
  
Meg’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s my turn!” She snatched the neon green shot in front of her and drank it down, smacking her lips sourly.  
  
“Hey, we didn’t spin!” Hannah said with false annoyance.  
  
“Oopsie,” giggled Meg. “Well it was gross anyway, so I spared you. Promise you’ll still hype the crowd for me?”  
  
“Sure we will,” I answered with a smile and gave the wheel a spin, the final round of shots spinning colorfully.  
  
I felt his gaze on my neck, felt it penetrate my skin and shiver into my veins. Gray and black shadows tugged at the corner of my eye, but I refused to look. He wanted my attention and I wasn’t going to give it to him. Not now. He wasn’t going to embarrass me again.  
  
I picked up the shot in front of me—burgundy-colored and sweetly spiced—and threw it back, reveling in the deep flavors of cherry and burnt orange. I had to get the recipe for that one. I eyed the remains of the greasy fries and wrinkled my nose, deciding that water would be far better for me now. I took another icy gulp and stood up, motioning for the girls to follow me and we went to stand around the stage.  
  
Meg stood tall before the mic stand, her too wide smile betraying her nerves. Lila pumped her fist in the air. “Spin the wheel, Meggy!” We joined in with various shouts of encouragement, her smile becoming more natural and her shoulders loosened up. She took a deep breath and pushed a button on the karaoke machine. The big screen TV behind her lit up and eye-burning bright letters began cycling madly. If you squinted, you could almost make out a title here, an artist there. At last, the spinning words stopped, and a song title flashed on the screen in triumphant neons.  
  
I Love Rock ‘n Roll by Joan Jett  
  
Meg beamed, pleased with her luck. The song kicked in and stage lights pulsed in colorful time. On the floor, we began cheering and whistling, boosting the energy of the crowd. She began swaying and bopping sassily as the lyrics faded in on the screen.  
  
_“Saw him standing there by the record machine,_  
_I knew he must’ve been about seventeen”_  
  
Her strong voice filled the room with confidence and fun, and soon we were all dancing to her beat. She never missed a note or a lyric, even when she got so into the music that she started tossing her head side to side, whipping her long hair across her face.  
  
_“The beat was going strong_  
_Playing my favorite song_  
_And I could tell it wouldn't be long till he was with me, yeah me_  
_And I could tell it wouldn't be long till he was with me, yeah me_  
  
_Singing, I love rock and roll,_  
_So put another dime in the jukebox, baby_  
_I love rock and roll_  
_So come and take your time and dance with me”_  
  
We sang along with her at the start of the chorus. Well, shouted in an attempt at singing, really, but it was her song, not ours, so we didn’t worry so much about how we sounded. Lila grabbed my hands and spun me around, twirling me in and out and around. I laughed. This was what I was looking for tonight. My heart pounded in my ears, for the first time in weeks not from fear or…anything else. I was happy.  
  
_“He smiled, so I got up and asked for his name/_ _But that don't matter, he said, 'cause it's all the same_  
_He said, "Can I take you home_  
_Where we can be alone?"_  
  
As she spun me out again, our hands slipped away from each other. I heard her giggle tipsily and loudly apologize. Just as I managed to stop the dizzy spin, I bumped hard into someone and heard a drink splash to the ground. “Oh, shit! Sorry, I-“  
  
Cool, strong fingers closed over my hands. “No worries.”  
  
The world shifted in static gray outlines, twisting shadows creeping from their corners to dance in the air around us. A high, tinny buzzing sound zinged through my ears, mingling weirdly with the thrumming, low hum resonating in my chest. His face, as cool and mild as ever, loomed in from of me. Pupilless, his eyes delved mine, overtaking my vision. I looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. No way would I fall for that again. Glancing back, I imploringly searched the crowd for my friends. To my dismay, the colorless world had stopped in place, smiles frozen on faces and laughter paused and silent in the dust-specked air. He leaned into my ear, bathing my skin with his cold breath. “It’s just a moment, that’s all. Just a moment for us to exist in.” I wrenched backward, attempting a forceful dislodge, but only succeeded in jostling against the body behind me. They didn’t react or even seem to move although I practically rammed into them. Dark bit back some laughter. “Well, that’s going to be fun…”  
  
“What the hell are you up to now?” I huffed, trying to loosen my hands from his. He responded by lacing our fingers tightly together.  
  
“I couldn’t simply whisk you away among such company, could I? That would have been rude.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re a model gentleman,” I grumbled. Damn, that buzzing and humming was making me dizzy. What was that?  
  
“It’s cute that you think you can avoid me,” he sneered, nosing against my hair.  
  
Shrinking even further away, I struggled to keep my shaking to a minimum and forced out a laugh. “Well, I am pretty damn adorable. Just ask my girls.”  
  
I regretted that response even before I felt his laughter hum through me, inevitably drawing my eyes back to his. “Oooh, tempting offer. Do I have your permission then?” His eyes remained firmly on mine, but I felt his attention shifting. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. But I’d been too in touch with his shadowy dealings to miss it. His mistake. The last thing I wanted was for any of them to draw his attention, and I would fight like hell before I let that happen.  
  
Straightening up, I locked eyes with him and pulled hard on our connection, giving him what I believed to be a sensation akin to yanking on a lock of his hair. I tried not to think about how it would feel in my fingers again. With more than a little relief, I felt his focus return to me, a mixture of his annoyance and bemusement seeping into my consciousness.  “You leave them alone! This is between you and me and that’s how it’s going to stay!”  
  
Chuckling, he raised his hand to my face, not quite cupping my cheek but hovering close enough to feel his cool aura radiating on my skin. Gooseflesh rose and I trembled, his presence chilling and warming me in the same moment. “I do like the sound of that.”  
  
Groaning, I rolled my eyes. Hand me a bigger shovel, I’ll just keep on digging my way out of this chasm. “God-fucking-dammit…”  
  
Buzzing...Humming…  
  
He laughed again and flicked a piece of my hair away from my shoulder. “You’re so easy to bait, Cas. Predictably so. Not to worry though. While they are an…enchanting bunch, as you said this is between you and me.” His hand ghosted down my arm, brushing the rising down on my skin. “We have a deal and I’m a shade of my word.”  
  
I scoffed, not missing his avoidance of saying the word “man”. He wouldn’t stoop to lumping himself in with us mortals, no matter how human he tried to make himself appear. “Sure you are. The soul of honesty. If you think for one minute that I actually trust you, you’re badly mistaken.”  
  
At last his hand made contact with my skin, his smooth fingertips skating frost up my arm in a sensual trail.  My eyelids fluttered closed, my teeth setting hard against my lips. I wouldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t make me. “But you want to.”  
  
It was such a simple statement. No question in it, no doubt. It seeped into me and took hold of something deep, shaking me as much as a leaf in the grip of a storm. My voice failed me, denial and bile in my mind, but it stuck in my throat. Something went soft and warm in my chest and he smiled in pure satisfaction. “Ah, yes…I see it. I feel it. Whatever you may pretend, there’s a tiny part of you that wants so badly to trust in me. And why not?” There was the question, and it sounded…earnest. Like it was the greatest mystery to him. He didn’t give me a chance to answer, stroking his other hand up my back and over my shoulder. “When have I ever deceived you? I have told you no lies, sweet Cassidy. Can you say the same? How many times have you lied to me? To yourself? So fruitless…blanketing yourself in an armor that you know I can penetrate.”  
  
His hands never stopped moving, weaving shadows around me in silken tendrils. My chest cramped up, the effort to keep my breathing steady and calm almost as impossible as resisting the sensations of his touch. He had to stop. I had to make him stop. How? Why was it so hard to do it? I winced painfully as my teeth finally opened a small split in my lower lip. Copper and salt lit up on my tongue.  
  
Dark blew out a sigh of exasperation, lifting his hands to my face, his fingers curled around my chin. “Why do you think your escape from me lies in pain?” His grip was unyieldingly strong but gentle as he brought his thumb up and brushed along the tiny wound. Curls of shadow rose, soft as smoke around my face, their cool and ghostly touch caressing my cheeks “You need to stop that. It doesn’t work.” My mouth tingled at his touch, the sleeping pulse of pain fading as he eased the pad of his thumb over it again. “You can’t escape me…and I don’t think you really want to.”  
  
His voice faded with each word, the touch of his hands dissolving from me. Color began to brighten my vision and as simple as the push of a button, the world merrily carried on, quite oblivious to the secret moment we shared. The music blared in my ears again. As I watched his retreating back, the one I’d lurched against in the shock of Dark’s taking me into our “moment” stumbled into someone else, sending up a domino effect of shouts and offense, drinks and curses spilling out one after the other.  
  
I finally spotted Lila and the girls as Meg’s song drew to a close. I weakly clapped with the audience, still out of sorts and confused from his sudden disappearance. Lila caught sight of me and slipped closer, holding me clumsily. “That was cute, Mama Hen. Really cute,” I mumbled softly, too softly for Georgia or Hannah’s ears.  
  
“I’m sorry, hon, I really am,” she giggled, clutching me tighter. The fact that she didn’t call me Chickydoo told me with all certainty that she wasn’t sorry at all. She meant to fling me into his arms, or at least into his path. I wriggled against her, trying to get away like an embarrassed child, because that’s what I was.  
  
“Cupid, you are not,” I harrumphed, and I regretted it. Her eyes went soft with apologies.  
  
“Oh, Cas…I…I’m sorry. I promise. I just thought…nevermind. His loss, you know? He doesn’t deserve you.”

__

“Of course he doesn’t. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding him?”  
  
_“It’s cute that you think you can avoid me…”_  
  
The mockery of his voice assaulted me again. Although I hated doing it, I looked over my shoulder, giving a desultory glance at where I thought he might have walked, not really looking for him at all.  
  
_Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,_ my mind hissed at me.  
  
I couldn’t continue my inner debate. Meg descended the stage and enveloped me and the others in a great soppy hug. Startled, I patted her arms around my waist and chuckled a little. “How’d I do? Was I horrible? Are they going to throw things?” She asked, nuzzling Hannah’s thick curls.  
  
Hannah snorted, swatting her playfully. “Hey, whoa, watch the tresses! And no, you were great, so hush!”  
  
Georgia was the first to disentangle herself and took my hands in hers. “Okay, Cas, your turn.”  
  
My head still bore a bit of confused fluff, and it took me a few moments before I could blurt out a “Huh?”  
  
“It’s your turn! Come on, crooner, get up there!”  
  
Realization hit me all at once and I immediately straightened up. “Oh right! Sorry!”  
  
As I turned to run up the stairs, my spine suddenly went mushy. One knee buckled, and I might have gone down if not for Lila. She swept out in front of me and took hold of my shoulders. “Whoa, slow down. Are you okay?”  
  
“Um…I…uh…well…” My thoughts turned into a weird cacophony, unstrung and dissonant as a cut guitar. I couldn’t see him with my eyes, but I knew he was still in the room somewhere. My stomach dropped quickly to my feet, sending me down with it. I plopped onto the lowest step and gripped my knees. “No, I’m not okay. Shit…what the hell is wrong with me?”  
  
My girls huddled around me like a devoted flock, hushing and shushing me, assuring that I had nothing to worry about…that I was great…that anyone who even showed a hint of disapproval would get a glassful of their own drink on their head.  
  
With every word from their sweet mouths, I felt a deep sense of calm taking over me. Knots loosened in my stomach and my cheeks cooled. I took a deep breath and stood up, planting a wide smile on my face. More than me, this night was for them. I wouldn’t fail them. Three long strides took me up the steps and I smashed the button on the karaoke machine. The colorful roulette spun on the screen, too fast for my bleary eyes to catch anything but alphabet soup.  
  
Fortune reached out and stopped the crazily dialing words, a flashing title blazing blue and green into my face.  
  
“Oh, NO!”


	16. The One That Got Away

The irony.

The mockery.

The FUCKERY.

“Wicked Game” by Chris Issak.

No. No, no, no, hell no. “Reshuffling!”

Hannah gave me weird look. “What do you mean, you love this song!”

My cheeks heated up under the stage lights. “I do not love this song,” I lied. “I’m not singing that. It’s too cheesy!” Any other night, I would have been glad to sing this song, cheese and all. But now it was too…I don’t know, too on the nose, too relevant. Of course, if I called for another spin, I ran the risk of getting a song I hated. But I didn’t want this song to speak for me. I made my choice.

Lila laughed and shook her head. “Gotta give us a better reason! Cheese doesn’t count!” Lila called. The crowd started to mumble and grumble.

“It’s a guy’s song, the notes are too low!” I answered, even though that was a lame excuse. I could hit most of the notes, but I couldn’t tell them the real reason. The girls looked at each other and nodded one by one. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pushed the shuffle button again. This was a big risk, and I knew that. But I’d become used to taking risks lately, and after all, it was only my pride at stake. How bad could it be?

The cycling words stilled and the new title splashed across the screen. I groaned, my heart splashing into my stomach.

Bad. It could be really bad.

“The One That Got Away” by The Civil Wars.

Another song I loved. Another song that summed things up too well. I should have stuck with the first one, at least I could have goofed on the cheese factor after a verse or two. But the rules were clear. I took a deep breath, stuffing my discomfort to the back of my mental queue, gave my most convincing smile, and pushed the button.

The girls cheered, clearly more pleased with this selection. “Cas! Cas! Cas!” Hannah chanted, joined by Meg, Georgia, Lila, then soon the rest of the crowd. My heart began thumping, adrenaline and excitement building inside me. Despite my initial discomfort, I lived for this moment. I loved singing, and there was no way I would let him make me embarrassed while doing something I loved. He wanted to play this way, fine. I could play right back. I’d show him.

_“I never meant to get us in this deep_

_I never meant for this to mean a thing_

_Oh, I wish you were the one_

_Wish you were the one that got away”_

My smile steadily dropped as I sang. I couldn’t help it; pretty as it was, the song was a bit of a downer. The girls had looped their arms around each other’s shoulders and swayed to the rhythm, their faces serene. Lucky them.

_“I got caught up by the chase_

_And you got high on every little game_

_I wish you were the one_

_Wish you were the one that got away”_  
  
Before I could stop, my gaze went to him. Even when he wasn’t trying, he could pull me in. There he sat at the bar, chatting with the blushing bartender. Bullshit. He inserted himself into MY world, and now he was going to act all nonchalant, like he didn’t somehow put on a skin suit and come after me.

_What. The. Fuck. What am I thinking? Back to the song. Stop thinking about him._

_“Oh if I could go back in time_

_when you only held me in my mind_

_just a longing_

_gone without a trace._

_Oh I wish I never,_

_Ever seen your face._

_I wish you were the one_

_Wish you were the one that got away.”_

**_You can’t._ **

There it was. That reconnection in my mind, the touch of something not of this world. And with it came a memory of something I did not want to deal with. I remembered one of my dreams. One of the ones he created. A flood of images raced through my mind, fighting for a solid grip. Roving, caressing hands, lingering lips on my neck, my collarbone…moving down. My skin tingled hotly and my muscles clenched tightly as I tried to physically fight off the emotional and mental assault. It was like pushing against the sea, the deadly undertow of his power washing through me, around me. _God no, not now._

The bright flash of lyrics on the screen below me caught my eye, snapping me back to the present. My voice wavered and I swallowed past a crack. I closed my eyes and took a ragged breath.

_“I missed the way you wanted me_

_When I was staying just out of your reach._

_Begging for the slightest touch_

_Ooh you couldn’t get enough, mmmm…”_

 

_“Oh if I could go back in time_

_when you only held me in my mind_

_just a longing_

_gone without a trace._

_Oh I wish I never,_

_Ever seen your face._

_I wish you were the one_

_Wish you were the one that got away."_  
  
The short interlude in the song began and I looked out into the audience. My girls were still there, but Meg and Hannah had since found partners and were gently swaying on the dance floor with them. Lila and Georgia were dancing with each other, slow two-step style. I knew they saw me, the whole crowd saw me, but even in this packed room, I felt alone. But that wasn’t true at all. Inescapable black eyes bored into me from across the crowd, reflecting in his glass of red wine. Despite my flipping stomach and my ever-shifting emotions, I met his eyes fearlessly. Because I wasn’t afraid of him, just like I said before.

I was afraid of the way I felt. Why? Why did it have to be him that made me feel like this? And it WAS him making this happen. Wasn’t it? It had to be. Please? 

My eyes prickled. His went soft. I watched his face twitch, almost as if he’d bitten his lip. No, just my imagination.  

_“Oh if I could go back in time_

_when you only held me in my mind_

_just a longing_

_gone without a trace._

_Oh I wish I never, ever seen your face._

_I wish you were the one_

_I wish you were the one_

_Oh, I wish you were the one_

_Wish you were the one that got away.”_

The song ended in silence. For a moment, I wondered if it had all been in my head: an illusion that fooled my waking mind. Then the room erupted in cheers and claps and whistles. I jumped a bit, shocked out of my introspective singing. Geez, I knew you could get lost in a song, but it felt like I was scared out of a dream. Shaking my head, I looked down to see the girls rushing the stage, beaming and laughing. I smiled and took my bows, blowing a kiss or two before heading to the steps. Four pairs of arms wrapped me up in a big messy hug and lead me out away from the stage.

“Cas that was soooo beautiful!” Hannah gushed, pushing me into a chair.

“I almost started crying,” Meg confessed, her eyes a bit misty as proof.

I smiled and slumped against the chair, grateful for a little rest. “Thanks. It was good, huh?”

Lila gave me a look. “Come on, you know it was.”

Chuckling, I nodded. “Sure, sure. God, I’m getting hungry again.”

Hannah signaled the waitress. “Yoo-hoo! Starving artists over here!”

For some reason, that cracked me up and I collapsed forward in peals of teary laughter. The comedic contagion spread to the others and soon we were all gasping for breath. It felt especially good to me after my inner conflict to have a laugh this pure. Carefully, I wiped my eyes, trying to avoid turning into a mascara raccoon. My smile wavered as I checked the bar for any sign of him.

Nothing. The stool he occupied was vacant. Wherever he was, it wasn’t here. And that called for celebration.   
  
An hour later, we’d piled into Meg’s SUV, our cheeks warmly pinkened from the last round. Hannah was beat out, leaning on Georgia’s arm as they clambered in. Her weight pleasantly settled against me when the vehicle rumbled to life. I leaned my cheek against her hair, not tipsy anymore but very relaxed. We chattered back and forth about what a night it was, how we couldn’t let the next night be too far off. One by one, Meg dropped us off to sleep off our lovely evening.  
  
I was the last to go, walking steadily enough to my door, but as soon as the door was closed and the SUV pulled away from the parking lot, I locked the door and collapsed to the floor, suddenly drained of everything that was keeping me together. I curled into a ball and struggled to keep my breathing steady. What was I going to do? He was coming. I knew it. I felt it. My head swam with what-if’s and would-I’s.   
  
The brand shivered at my throat, pulsing out in alternating waves of heat and numbness. My heart raced for a moment, then the rhythm sank into me and I began to breathe normally. I laid my cheek on my knees and let the dizziness pass, slowly drawing and releasing my breath until the momentary panic was gone.

“Better?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed and nodded, turning to the source of the question. Dark, in his crisply tailored suit, stood easily on the opposite side of the room, one leg cocked up with his foot planted against the wall. His hair fell across his forehead in soft black waves, catching the light strangely. “You worry-“

“Too much?” I finished for him. His head snapped up as if I’d slapped him, an idea that appealed to me greatly. “Flip the record, Dark.” I watched his fists clench at his sides with great relish. It felt good to put him off his game even a little bit, but it was an indulgence I had to temper. If it went too deeply into his discomfort, it could be bad for me. I was no fool. As slowly as I dared, I stood up and brushed my dress down, looking convincingly nonchalant. “What do you want now?”

Thick silence fell in the room. He didn’t look at me, didn’t even turn his head in my direction. “Answer me,” I demanded curtly. 

No answer. “Dark, did you hear me?” 

If he did, he gave no clue. Fuck this. I’d had about enough of his moods. “Answer me!”

The rush of angry shadows advanced so quickly I didn’t even know I moved until I felt the wall pressing on my back. Dark grasped my shoulders and pinned me to it. That flickering around his frame returned, the truth of what he was shifting away from the physical form. My voice died in a withering gasp, no scream, no cry to answer his explosion of frustration. Trembling, I looked up, expecting to see his face a twist of rage, a predator slavering for its prey.

 Pain. His eyes were haunted with a wrenching agony. It looked like someone had ripped him apart and put him back together with something missing. It disappeared after an instant and his detached façade returned, but I would never forget that look as long as I lived. His grip slackened a little but didn’t let go, his head dropping slightly.

“We need to talk.”


	17. A Taste of Darkness

Countless moments passed as we stood there, breathing each other’s air, our gazes mingling in silence. His grasp on me hadn’t let up any more, but it didn’t tighten either. He was just…there, but as always, it felt like he existed somewhere else. He was waiting for me to make the next move.

I couldn’t even think about moving. My brain careened around in a war of confusion, each one ricocheting back to the deep seated pain in his eyes. It was awful. For that split second, all his pretense and bravado was stripped bare, and all I could see was _a soul._ What did it mean? After weeks, months of his resolute smugness, I witnessed him become _vulnerable_. It was gone now, smothered in his passive expression, but now that I knew it was there what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel?

What. The hell. Did it mean?

Then, his grip slackened a little, his thumbs caressing tiny circles on my shoulders, a touch I felt even through my thick jacket and the confused haze. One hand slipped up from my shoulder to my chin, barely palming my jaw. The energy in the room changed subtly, the space directly behind me becoming less than tangible. I didn’t need to look to know what he was doing. Panic slid into my stomach and grabbed his arms and threw them aside with a strength I didn’t know I had.

“No. I have had enough. Of all the nights you could pull this, you picked tonight. _My night_.” There we go. Get mad. That was better than remembering his pain. Shouldering past him, I walked straight to the opposite wall and leaned back against it. “So you stay over there and talk, or get the hell out of my apartment, because I am not leaving tonight. Do you hear me?”

The mists of blackness still swam around his hands, thin tendrils reaching in my direction, but not getting closer. Finally, he blew out a long sigh and clenched his fists. I started, ready to bolt, but relaxed a bit as I watched the shadows disappear. “Fair enough.”

“Hmph, about time you started playing fair,” I grumbled, folding my arms with a huff. “Well, start talking. What is so damn important that you-“

“How long are we going to do this?” Smoothly he turned to face me, his expression a strange mixture of irritation, slyness, and the soft darkness that swept across me from his black eyes.

Goosebumps raced across my skin. Twin pits of shadow burned into me. What was it about those eyes that kept me so intrigued? “Do this…what?”

“This little cat-and-mouse game. This chase.”

Knots twisted up in my stomach and I placed one foot on the wall, putting on the image of ease. It wouldn’t fool him, but it made me feel a bit better. “I…thought you liked games. And who says I’m playing at anything? I’m just trying to live my life and stay sane. You’re the one who keeps coming back. You’re the one who can’t keep away.”

“Go ahead and lie to yourself. You’re used to it, aren’t you? You lie to yourself and your little friends, and to me. But you can’t hide the truth from me. You never could.” He vanished in a plume of smoke and reappeared right in front of me. I yelped and pressed back against the wall. Towering over me, he pressed his palms against the wall, boxing me in. “Is it that you don’t know what you want, or are you just _afraid_ of what you want?”

That fucking did it. All he ever talked about was fear from the start of this whole debacle. My last shred of patience burnt up and I shoved him back hard. “I’ll tell you what I want! I want to make you feel everything you’ve done to me! I want to break you and watch you twist. God, I would love to hurt you! I just want to…to hate you.”   
  
The image of the agony in his eyes flashed in my mind, and as quickly as it reared up, my anger vanished. Frustration boiled in my stomach as I felt myself leaning into him. “But I can’t. Damn it, I can’t. Every chance I have to do it, I don’t. It’s there, and then I go soft. You make me soft! You make me helpless and weak!”

“Helpless? Weak?” He hissed, leaning his face into mine. “You think you even understand that? I am a shade. An immortal spirit of the primal darkness. I swim in the spaces between the stars. I delve into the kind of darkness that would leave a mortal like you a mindless _wreck_.” The chill in his voice froze my blood and I shrank in his grasp. My stomach clenched up, my mouth pressed in hard against my teeth. Maybe this was it! Maybe he would make me hate him!

A sigh, resigned and a bit exasperated, poured over my flesh and I shivered again. He shook his head and wrapped one hand around my hip, pulling me in closer to him. “And yet I am here…wearing flesh and blood…paying calls on a mortal woman.” Drawing even closer, he brushed his hand—warm and real—against my cheek. He laughed gently, his voice low and husky. “You can’t find another helpless weakness like that.”

The air turned hot and thick in my lungs. I turned my eyes to his again, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Soft. They’d gone so soft again. The air vibrated around me as shadows danced across his eyes, catching me off guard long enough for him step closer, easing me further into his arms. The alluring darkness cleared almost immediately—just a tease—and he gave me a slowly spreading smile. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, you know. You were supposed to be a diversion for my boredom.” His hands combed through my hair and down my neck, raising soft gooseflesh as they travelled. “It stopped being that quite a while ago. That’s why I tried to stay away, to shake this…addiction I feel.” He began easing my jacket from my shoulders, stopping just shy of taking it off so my arms remained restrained in the sleeves. “But I can’t. I tasted your darkness…the power I gave you ripened to a purity I cannot describe. I tasted _you,_ ” he trailed his fingers lightly against my lower lip, his fingertips just barely trembling but maybe that was my lips trembling.

“Ngh…Dark…” A wave of heat washed over my ability to think straight.

He pressed his fingers against my lips, silencing me. “Before you ask, it does go beyond that. You are untamable. Your will, though I might soften it, remains unbroken. Of all the power I have, you are what I can’t control. It’s infuriating, but I can’t seem to be angry at you. How could you know what you’ve done to me?” 

My eyes began to sting, and I realized that I hadn’t blinked for a while. “I didn’t do shit,” I insisted through panting breaths, trying to wiggle my arms out of the sleeves, trying to hold on to even a shred of my control.

That blew away in an instant as pressed closer, enough to feel him breathe in the scent of my hair. “Of course you didn’t. Not intentionally, anyway. You were just being you, and that makes it even more maddening,” he purred in my ear, lifting a lock of my hair in his palm to let it run through his fingers. “You don’t have to try. While me…oh, you’re making me work for this, sweet.”

Every muscle in me pulled taut, trembling from the strain of trying to keep still. My mouth tripped over its words, trying to string together something, anything to say that made sense. “I’m not…I didn’t…you…”

“Come on now. I’m being honest with you. Why won’t you just be honest with me?”

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop a shiver. “Stop saying that. I’m not…lying.”

“Then tell me you don’t want me.” Pulling me away from the wall and firmly enclosing his arms around me he gave the arms of the jacket it a little twist to keep my inside it. I leaned back, trying to pull away, but he bent his head to my throat. “If what you say is true, then you can do that. Tell me and I’ll stop.”

I finally managed a full breath, my blurring vision cleared a little. “I don’t…” A stiffening jolt went up my spine when his lips kissed cold fire onto my skin. He paused for a moment, testing to see if I would finish, but my voice died away. My flesh strained, missing his mouth, betraying me. Satisfied that I was silenced, Dark bent his head to my neck again, continuing his ministrations. My hips rocked forward involuntarily, interrupting my speech. “I…I…”

A quiet, humming chuckle vibrated into me. “Well, go on, say it,” he whispered throatily. “You want to hurt me, right? This should be easy. Tell me.” His mouth trailed along, stopping to nibble one side of my neck, making me gasp and whine in an attempt to catch my breath. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out.

“I…don’t…want…”

Dark switched to the other side my neck, his lips connecting with my shoulder to suckle my skin. His teeth gently bit down on the straining tendon, a strangled squeak all the sound I made.

Why wouldn’t it come out? It was right there. One more word and he’d stop. This was impossible. Lips, tongue, teeth, all working together, driving me completely mad. Liquid fire pumped through my veins, sending my breath into a series of short pants. My legs buckled against each other, a throbbing heat mocking my weakness.

I couldn’t say it. Even if I managed to somehow force it out of me, it wouldn’t mean anything. And he’d know it too. Too enflamed to care anymore, I laid my head against his shoulder. I’d finally lost to his game, caught dead center in his trap. A cheap move, perhaps I’d call him out on it later, but for now, all I could do was sigh, “I don’t want you to stop.”

The jacket fell to the floor at last, freeing my arms. Smirking, he slipped his hands into my hair, twisting and tangling his fingers into it. “No more running?”

Lifting my head, I met his eyes, and this time I dove into them, seeking out everything I wanted. It was all there, waiting for me in the darkness. “No more games?” I murmured, buckling against him, bracing my hands against his chest for support.

“Only the ones you want to play.”

We held there for a moment, drinking in the sight of each other before I reached up and locked my hands behind his neck, pulling him forward. Our mouths crashed together in a moan shared by both of us. The last of my inhibition burning away, I pressed fully against him, sinking my hands deep into his hair. A growl rumbled in his chest, my bold action spurring him on. He grasped my hips in both hands and crushed himself against my body, grinding hard against me. As the kisses grew hungrier, my knees gave out and I almost fell, breaking the kiss. In a swift movement I was in his arms, carried easily into the bedroom. Dark pushed the door open with his foot and carried me to the bed, gently lowering me down. I tucked my legs under myself and curled my fingers into his shirt, popping one of the black buttons off. The shirt opened teasingly, inviting my eyes. One by one, I began toying with the other buttons, undoing them to reveal more and more of his torso. I swallowed hard, taking in how perfect he was, my hands trembling as they traced lightly against his pale skin and pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. He shrugged out of it and leaned over me, reaching around to the zipper of my dress, pulling down on it so hard a seam snapped.

The feeling of that snap and the cool air touching my bare back broke the intensity of the moment. Doubt crept back me then and I drew my legs up and away from him. My breathing sped up, my mind reeling at the thought of us…together...

What the hell was I getting myself into?

“You can stop me with a word,” he murmured into my ear, stroking my back in soft, easy passes.

Groaning I nuzzled his cheek, the nerves in my stomach prickling despite how hot I felt, how good it all felt. "No, it's not that. It's just...I-”

“Shhh-shh…it’s a bit much, I see. Let’s try this.” Dark scooped his arms around me, rearranging my position from sitting to lying down. Slowly, as if asking permission, he slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders to bare my collarbone and the top of my chest but went no further. “Just breathe…just trust me…”

Could I? Was I willing to try?

Biting my lip, I nodded, making the crucial step from the ledge to the fall, praying that in the end, I’d be caught.

Smiling, he settled beside me and raised his hand to rest in the center of my vision and gave it a slight twist. Shadows raced from the corners of the room, swirling around his fingers like tiny black serpents. Slowly they snaked around his hand until they finally grew into one long, graceful shape. The sublime, spiraled form of the head rested easily before my eyes, trailing down into a slender stem: a rose, too perfect to grow in any garden. The thorns, shiny and barbed as obsidian shards, glimmered in the soft light. He lowered it beneath my nose and brushed against it. The petal-rich scent drifted up and hung thickly in the air. Sweet, but smoky, like a fine incense rather than a natural flower, heady enough to make me dizzy. A deft turn of his wrist laid the dark blossom against my cheek, drawing down sensually to my chin. My skin tingled along the gentle path it took, along my jawbone and down my neck. I sighed deeply, my eyes slipping closed. I remembered that sensation, the velvet touch of shadows sinking through my skin, lighting up my nerves.

“Shall I go on?” He asked, twirling the rose around the brand. I writhed on the mattress a little, spastically shaking my head in an attempt at a nod. “I thought so...” The rose brushed gently across my collarbone, slipping over the tops of my breasts in feathery strokes. The touch was so tender, but fleeting.

I needed more.

I wanted more.

Scooting up on the pillow, I tugged at the hem of the dress, pulling it down until it slipped away from my breasts, the little bra now the only barrier between him and the sensitive skin. I reached for the front clasp, a quick flick all it took for the flimsy thing to fall open. He wasted no time in resuming the strokes of the velvet petals around one breast, then the other, drawing spiraling patterns all over them. “Mmm…Dark…”

His only answer was the slow descent of the petals down my stomach, teasing my navel. Unable to stop myself, I giggled at the sensation. His eyes flicked to mine, amusement dancing in them. Goosebumps rose and I blushed, my head so light I thought we might actually be floating. The shadows that made up the beautiful rose began dissolving away, filling the air with a fine black mist, still scented with sensual rose-smoke. Dark laid his palm against my stomach and slowly slid it up to one of my breasts. His touch was cool and I gasped, throwing my head back against the pillow as he circled the nipple with his thumb. I skimmed my hands against the silken ropes of muscle in his arm, sliding up to his shoulder to pull him down almost on top of me. His chest pressed hard against mine and a deep, rumbling purr resonated against my skin. I moaned and sighed, pricking my fingernails into his back. Good God, what had I ever been waiting for?

Dark looped his arms around me and repositioned us again, centering himself between my thighs. Looking down my own body, I gaped to see both my dress pooled around my ankles and…him fully unclothed, his shirt and pants nowhere to be seen, not even on the floor. My mouth fell open and snapped shut a couple of times.

“Something to say?” He asked, his voice drenched in amusement.

Yanking my gaze away from… _him_ , I managed a convincing glare. “Well, that’s not fair,” I pouted, suddenly finding it in me to smirk at him, poking him in the chest. “What if _I_ wanted to do that?”

His black eyes widened in a spectacular expression of shock that I always wanted to see in his face. That was followed by a full smile and the shock shifting into black smoldering embers. “Next time, dearest…next time,” he whispered, stroking up and down my thighs slowly. I bucked my hips up, agonizing pressure building inside me, tightening to a sharp knot right in my center.

“Ghh...ahh…p…please…”

He tensed against me, his fingers deeply massaging the soft flesh of my backside. “God, I love when you beg. Again,” he murmured dreamily, teasingly slipping his fingers against me. Sweat poured from my skin and I strained to reach him, my fingers scrabbling at the mattress just shy of him. A spike of ice and flame lit up inside me as he slid a finger into me. “Just once…come on…”

His finger beckoned and twisted into me, dragging me deeper down into the haze of sublimation. As amazing as it felt, as easy as it would be to just lose control, the tiniest part of me clung to it and I shook my head in denial. The memory of all the times he made me beg before, beg to stop, beg to let me go flooded back into me just as much as the pleasure did. No, no no no…not this time…

Sucking in a deep breath, I raised up from the bed and wrapped my legs around his waist, undulating myself against him. He fixated onto my eyes, but there was not compulsion from him this time. Oh no, this time it was him who couldn’t pull away. I don’t know how I knew, but I didn’t have the capacity to question it before I dug my nails into his back. “No,” I hissed, raking down slowly, “ _you_.”

A strange, dry sound rattled in his throat. I’m sure the slick feeling on his back was blood and not sweat if the pain and excitement in his eyes was anything to go on. Shuddering, he lurched forward bearing us both down to the bed and smothering my mouth with his. Our tongues writhed and battled for dominance as we both clawed and pawed each other, not even thinking about where our hands were going. Something soft and shadowy brushed my mind, the touch of his soul and very being, so deep and intense that I might have just passed out right there, except for the still, small voice that drifted up from the midst of the darkness. The one thing I never expected to hear from him.

_Cassidy…please…_

Instinct seized me and I gripped him in one swift movement, guiding him to my entrance. It slipped against the wet heat then slid inside, molding us together so completely. I gasped for breath, my lips freezing up for an instant as the painful thrust began to melt into a pleasurable fire. Wave after wave of heat slammed into me like a rock on a shore and I couldn’t hold back a whimper.

Dark gripped me tightly, moaning into my mouth before releasing me, ducking his head against my chest. Tiny breaths burst forth from him, puffs of icy wind against the heat of my skin. His tongue darted out and flicked against my nipple then latched onto it, drawing it into his mouth to suckle it as maddeningly as he had done to my neck. This time, I didn’t bother clutching needlessly to pride and let out a cry of pleasure, gripping his head tightly and holding him to me, not risking him teasing me again. His teeth scraped my skin and I yelped again, losing my grip on him and bucking up against him, shivering as he caressed every inch inside me.

“Sweeeet Cassidy…” He groaned, pulling back just a bit and then pushing forward sharply. My voice failed me, a soft whine issuing from my throat. The intensity of the pleasurable sensations spun my head in dizzy circles, sapping every bit of focus I had with each retreat and advance from him. It was my turn to growl and I dove forward to the juncture of his neck, nipping the pale, perfect skin.   
  
He choked on a roar and sat up with me straddling him, thrusting up in a hypnotically primal rhythm. My teeth ground hard against his neck, stifling my groans as I shifted against him, mimicking his movements. Shockwaves pounded against me relentlessly, and I tossed my head away from him, the taste of his sweat staining my lips. I laid my head on his shoulder and released the last, fragile vestige of control as he clenched against me, within me. A scream escaped, louder and keener than anything I’d ever let out in his most devious game. He answered me with a cry laced with his rolling growl, our pleasure mingling into an escalating blaze of passion.

Drawing me even closer, he snuggled his face into my throat and suckled the pulsing brand, moaning in a rhythm matching the power of our pleasure. Little by little, the excitement and ecstasy simmered down and down until we lay spent in each other’s arms, panting and sweating in the sheets. The world faded and darkened, enfolding us in soft shadows. The senselessness held off mercifully, enough to let me kiss him softly on the mouth before it took me, tucking me into the gentle darkness again, this time with a smile on my face.


	18. The Morning After

Layer after layer of velvet darkness peeled away from me, opening into the light like an exotic flower. I felt the bed under my body but I was floating nonetheless. Moaning, I weakly grasped at the last connection to the sleepy shadows reluctantly letting me return to the waking world. Softly, my mind awoke and greeted the gray light of the morning. The sun leaked weakly into the window, pattering rain on the glass. Languidly I stretched on the mattress, feeling the kinks and stiffness pulling taut and releasing. “Mmm…mmm….” I sat up and rubbed my eyes free of morning grit, catching sight of my dress and underwear on the floor beside the bed. Chills ran up my body and down again.

It _wasn’t_ a dream…

I wasn’t _that_ drunk last night…

It _really_ happened.

Bracing myself, I waited for the realization to kick in that I fucked up. That I’d made a huge mistake. Regret would come smashing in and ruin my morning as I’d similarly ruined my whole damn life in one night.

It never came. No panic, no remorse. I smiled a little, then grinned as a particularly familiar warmth melted into me. Everything was just fine. I was still as relaxed and content as when I’d fallen asleep in his arms last night. My smile wilted a little when I looked down to see the bed empty. The sheets were cool beside me.   
  
He was gone, almost like he'd never been here.  
  
Don’t know what I expected. Dark didn’t seem like the type to stay for breakfast. Wrinkling my nose, I kicked the covers off. Something small and dark fluttered to the carpet. The only sign that he’d been here: a single, jet black rose petal. It was softer than velvet, weightless in my hand as I picked it up and brushed it against my cheek. The scent was still strong and sweet. Pleasant ghosts of the incredible sensations of last night haunted my body and mind. "Wow..."  
   
My head went a little fuzzy and I realized just how hungry I was. Carefully I set the petal on my night stand and got up, slipped into silky robe, and headed for the kitchen. A good breakfast and some coffee were much needed.

As I whipped up some eggs with ham and cheese, I let my mind wander back to last night. It would be so easy to make myself believe it was just a tipsy dream, but I certainly didn’t want to. It wasn’t my first time, but the sensations were so intense that it might as well have been. I’d never felt anything so deep.

It was a bit scary, though, no matter how good it felt or how fondly I looked back on it. Were things going to change now? Well, of course they would, but how? Did this mean I’d just struck some weird soul bargain? Or worse, would I be left alone now, having given him what he wanted? He said no more games, but I suddenly found myself doubting his words.

_Stop that. You trusted him last night with…well, everything. Nothing’s changed. It’s fine._ Nodding firmly to myself, I poured the eggs into a hot pan, the warm buttery smell wafting up in a hiss of steam. I licked my lips, hunger setting in more deeply. The doubts lingered quietly in the background. _But what if…_

A pair of strong arms looped around me and pulled me in close, stopping up the errant thoughts immediately. “Did you miss me?” Dark purred, his voice raising chills all over me. ALL over. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my shoulder, his scruff prickling into my skin.

“Ngh…hey, cut it out,” I grumbled, wiggling a little against him. His answering growl told me that was the wrong move to make.

“Not a chance, you temptress,” he whispered, laying a kiss on my earlobe.

I resisted the urge to abandon breakfast all together and return the kiss, but the eggs were starting to sizzle. “I’m trying…trying to make breakfast.”

“You can multitask,” he whispered and drew the soft lobe into his mouth and nibbled gently. My spine turned to jelly immediately. Damn he was good at that.

“Where did you go?” I managed to ask between sighs, running my free hand along his arm as I clumsily tried to turn the eggs with the other. It was quite a trial, staying flat on my feet while my knees were becoming less than solid.

“Mm, shade business,” he snorted with more than a little boredom, slipping my robe off one shoulder.

Shrugging his hand away, I shakily moved the pan off of the stove. “Hmph, _shady_ business,” I snarked, still a little disappointed to have woken up alone. “To answer your question, yeah, I did miss you. Happy?”

He leaned closer and brushed his fingers through my hair. “I missed you too,” he admitted, “very much actually.”   

I leaned against the counter as he pressed against my hips. My face heated up, but then my hand did too and I snatched it away from the still hot stove. He frowned and grabbed it, turning it over. I cleared my throat, still blushing. “It’s fine.” I slipped my hand from his and grabbed the pan, turning the eggs onto a plate. “Um, are you hungry?” I asked, feeling more awkward than ever.

Laughing, he smoothly traced tiny circles on my bare shoulder. “Yeah, I am.”

“Ugh, that was lame, Dark,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I set the plate on the table.  

He shrugged, still toying with the silk fabric. “Eh, you set me up. What was I supposed to do when this flimsy thing is all that stands in my way?”  

I pushed his hand down and readjusted the sleeve, tightening the belt for emphasis. “Um, no. How about you let me eat breakfast first?” I sat down hard in the chair to show him I wasn’t fooling. He made me wake up by myself. Let him twist a bit.

If he was bothered by my refusal, he hid it as well as ever. “Sure, sure. Breakfast first, _dessert_ later,” he promised darkly, taking a seat at the table opposite me.

Blush rushed up to my face again, but I tucked my chin down and started on the eggs. I was too hungry to let him distract me. He didn’t say anything else, just sat there silently watching.

After a few minutes, I’d had enough of the food and the feel of his eyes resting on me. I looked up and back down again. “Did you want any? I’m done,” I offered, silently wishing he would just so he could do something other than stare at me.

“Thank you, but no. I’ve no need for food.”

Sighing, I nodded and stood up, taking the plate to the sink. “Right. I suppose spirits don’t eat.” _But they do fuck, apparently,_ I added to myself, biting back a snort of laughter as I scraped the leftovers into a Tupperware.

_“We certainly do. And quite well, if your reaction is anything to go by.”_

I choked a little, nearly dropping the empty plate in shock. Dammit, I kept forgetting he could do that. His reminder of our time together didn’t help my situation either. My hands trembled, fumbling to get the lid on the Tupperware. He got out of the chair and slid up behind me, his hands covering mine, easily snapping the lid in place. He didn’t immediately move back however, slipping his hands up my arms and shoulders. “Why are you so nervous, love? Hmm?”

Stepping backward, I dropped my arms and turned around, looking him squarely in the eye. “I don’t know, okay?” I pressed my hands to his chest, not pushing just holding him there. “I don’t regret it, what we did. But this is new, and you can’t expect me to jump in bed with you whenever you show up, not when you can leave just as easily.”

“Not my choice mind you,” he interrupted. Reaching up, he took my hands in his. “If I could simply resist the call to my host, I would.” Slowly, he shook his head. “But that’s not how it works. Remember what I am, Cassidy. I have duties, and if duty calls…well, there are consequences if they aren’t met.”

For the second time, I saw the ghost of his pain in his eyes, not as intense as last night, but it was the same pain. Biting my lip, I lowered my eyes. “S-sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologize. You couldn’t have known.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “And it’s not easy, seeing you worry. There are things you don’t know and I can’t tell you all at once.”

“But you will…tell me? Sometime between now and everything going to hell?” I asked, lacing our fingers together.

That got a chuckle out of him and the pain dissolved, his smile growing sly again. He nodded, his soft hair falling against my right eye. “Somewhere in between.”

The distance between us suddenly seemed too far apart and I rose up on my tiptoes, planting a firm, quick kiss on his lips. He startled a little, my move obviously taking him a bit by surprise. It didn’t take him long to respond, but alas, I was able to sidestep his grasp. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said over my shoulder, making a hasty move down the hall and into the bathroom. Closing the door, I pressed my back against it and smiled. That felt good. Left him twisting twice in one day. I was getting better at playing this game. Now, what to do? A shower would feel pretty good considering I hadn’t gotten a chance to wash up last night. I grabbed a towel and washcloth, but as I bent to turn on the water I hesitated.

He was still out there. I could feel him. Impulsive creature he was, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist the thought of me in the shower. My stomach flip-flopped at a very possible scenario, one I could barely resist myself. Seeing all that perfection wet and steamed…

Shaking my head, I gave myself a mental smack. No way was I going to let him see or hear me thinking that. I’d never live it down. “Keep it cool, Cas,” I muttered, wetting the washcloth with a little cleanser. The shower could wait, but I at least had to get this makeup off. Raccoon rings decorated my eyes, a dried streak of melted mascara trailing down my cheek. Gross. And he saw me like this. Great. I scrubbed the stubborn black stuff away and checked my reflection. Much better, except for a little streak left behind. Leaning closer, I swiped at it again with the cloth. Nothing, it stayed put.

Oh my god, not this again! I pulled one side of my robe open and gawked at the sight. The streak trailed down from my cheek to my breast in a snarl of shadowy ribbon. The same path that Dark and his rose had taken last night. “Dark! Dark, you ass! Come here right now!”

“No need to shout.”

I yelped as he materialized behind me, not bothering with the door. “Goddamn it, make some noise or something.” I gestured to the new “art” he’d made on me in frustration. “What the hell is this? It looks like you painted me with ink.”

Dark leaned back in the wall, his eyes trailing down and up approvingly. “I think you look rather fetching. I like seeing where I’ve been.”

I shivered and closed up my robe, shying away from his eyes. “W-well, it’s going to be hard to explain this to people and I’d rather not try. Just fix it.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

His abrupt question took the wind from my annoyance, replacing it with total confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. If you don’t like it, you can change it.” He pushed away from the wall and turned me to the mirror. “You did changed the shadows once before, out of survival. Just think what you can do with deliberate thought put into it.” As he spoke, he reached around me and slowly undid the belt of my robe. “This is yours now, to shape and form at your will.”

“But…how? How do I-“

“Look at yourself. Look at the path,” he murmured, sliding the robe off of me, letting it fall with a whisper to my feet. I glanced at the mirror taking in my body for a moment before ducking my blushing face back down. His cool hands rested lightly on my shoulders. “You’ve got to see this if you want to change it. I can teach you how. Look up, Cassidy.”

Fighting back the urge to pick up my robe and bolt, I took a deep breath and raised my eyes to the mirror. It hung suspended in a void of blackness that stretched in every direction. There was a vague, pale light surrounding its frame, illuminating us faintly. I didn’t even notice us leaving my world. It felt…more natural somehow. Besides that, there was nothing to distract me from whatever this task was. Well besides him, but he seemed more intent on my reflection than me.

As my eyes grew stronger amid the darkness, I saw the whole path of the twisting ribbon. It started on my cheek, twirling in an elegant filigree down and around my collarbone. The spiral brand wove itself nearly seamlessly into the looping lines that travelled down my breastbone and made lovely circling patterns around each breast. Lower and softer went the brushstrokes of darkness, ending in a sublime flourish at my navel. It was a beautiful sight, and if I could think of any way to explain it, I wouldn’t change a thing. I even felt a little guilty for wanting to try.

“It’s alright,” Dark said softly, trailing his hands down my back to gently land on my hips. “Look again. Start at the beginning.” He laid one hand on my cheek where the first stroke was and began to travel the path. I watched him in the mirror, my eyes fixed on the sight of his fingers skating down my face. I heard him softly laugh when the goosebumps rose but other than that nothing slowed his progress. Stroking back and forth across my collarbone, he lingered at the swirl at my throat, reverently moving lower, caressing my breasts. Our breathing followed a steady, sensual rhythm that deepened with each inch his hands moved and my eyes followed. In my memory, I could feel the sensual touch of the rose petals skating along my skin as surely as I felt him. Brushing, twirling, fluttering…

Then I could see it happening. The dark strokes were shifting and melting, the linear pattern breaking into the shape of pure black rose petals, floating down to rest in one place. The end of their journey.

Dark moved his pale hand away from my navel. Blooming outward from the little pit was the image of a perfect, black rose. He looked into the reflection of my eyes and smiled approvingly at my choice.

I smiled back. “A memento,” I said simply and lolled my head back against his shoulder. An odd feeling of sleepiness crept over me. It felt like the first time he’d taken from the brand, my energy waning into softness.

“Beautifully done.” Strong arms scooped me up before my knees went soft and laid me down again, a clear echo of the night before. “And I do mean beautiful,” he added. My eyes flicked open, the blurry vision of him hovering over the bed lightening and darkening as I fought the tiredness. “You should get some rest,” he whispered, covering me with the sheet.

Even through the haze, I saw his eyes burning like embers.

I reached for his hand, grazing my fingers against his. “Nooo…stay here…” I slurred, pushing the sheet down. “Don’t leave…”

My eyes finally fell shut, unable to stay on his. As I slipped further into sleep, the space beside me on the bed shifted, gentle fingers stroking through my hair carrying me away on a whispered vow.

_“We’re going to do great things together…_

_Go back to sleep…”_


	19. Seek the Truth

\--

A high-pitched sound drilled into my ear, stealing away the serene sleep. Groaning and grumbling I slapped at the alarm clock, annoyed at its persistent noise. After the fourth smack, something small hit the floor, the sound ceasing abruptly and a soft ping replaced it. It occurred to me that the offensive noise was actually coming from my phone. I peeked over the side of the bed. The time flashed above Lila's number. 11:30am. Whoops. 

Glancing back, I smiled to see Dark still there, his eyes closed as serenely as I'd ever seen. For a while I sat there, just looking at him, his broad chest rising and falling, not a trace of pain in his face. It looked like a ghost of a smile rested on his lips. Was he really sleeping? He said shades didn't need food. Did they need sleep? 

Another ping from the floor reminded me of my phone. As gently as I could I slid away from my houseguest and reached for the fallen object. My fingers brushed it before I was yanked back by two unyielding arms and clasped against a bare chest. "No."

I did my best to sit up and scoot towards the edge of the bed. I might as well have tried to pull my Jeep out of the mud with a bike chain. "Leggo, I gotta get that." 

"You don't." He groaned, running his hand down my breast and stomach, stroking his thumb against the rose on my navel. 

"Nghh...Daaaaark..." My skin tingled in delicious chills, but I managed to make it out of his grasp and reached over the mattress. "Do you really want her to come looking for me and find your naked ass in my bed?"

"Maybe."

"Well I don't," I snapped and finally managed to stretch far enough to grab the phone. "Much as I love having your naked ass in my bed, I don't need anyone else to see it."

Laughing, he strapped me into his arms again. "Possessive aren't we?"

"Says the guy literally trying to stop me from calling my friend." I clicked redial and let myself melt against him. "Behave," I whispered as the dial tone rang. 

"Hi hi!" Lila giggled before clearing her throat. "Did you just wake up, you sloth?"

"You just called me. Maybe you're the sloth, sloth."

"*giggle* Just fucking with you."

Chuckling, I shook my head. "For your information, I got up...um...earlier, not sure when, and had breakfast." My body froze up as Dark began nuzzling the back of my neck, his hands skating across my stomach. Fire raced through my veins, stopping up my voice for a second or two. Damn him. "Um...then I...went back to bed."

"Are you okay? You sound distracted."

Oh, sister, you don't know the half of it... "I'm fine. No worries," I muttered, desperate to keep from breathing heavily into the phone.

Dark nipped my earlobe, slowly letting the soft bit of skin drag through his teeth. "Invite her over if she needs proof," he whispered silkily.

"Shhhhhhut up," I hissed, smacking his hand sharply as it wandered toward my breast again.

"Huh? Sorry I think my phone hit a dead zone."

Wriggling away from his roving hands, I shot him a glare before drawing my knees up to my chest. "Yeah, I'm good, just a helluva night. Might stay in bed a little longer."

"Just making sure. I'm gonna check on the others. Have a lovely Saturday!"

"Bye-bye," I chirped, waited for the beep of the terminated call, and then tossed the phone away from the bed. Spinning about, I leapt at the man in my bed with a growl, straddling him into a pin. "You bloody nuisance!"

"Minx!" He accused, easily flipping me over. We wrestled and writhed against each other until he got one hand under my backside and gave me a firm pinch, chuckling at my loud yelp. Before I realized my disadvantage, he had each arm down in an unbreakable grip, cutting my breathless laughter off with a crushing kiss, wild and almost too hard, but I returned it nonetheless, nipping his bottom lip. My wits spun about as he released my arms and sank his fingers into my hair, growling against my mouth. 

We battled for a while until we came up for air and stared into each other's eyes, panting and sweating. After a moment or two...or three...I was able to pull in enough air to form something coherent. "You...are a horndog."

"Guilty," he grinned and let his head drop to my shoulder, tucking his face against my tangled hair. Sighing, I sank deeper into the blankets and wrapped my arms around his neck. "And what's so wrong with that? I've been good and patient, haven't I?"

"You? 'Good'? Hah, that's funny," I muttered, struggling to keep my mind from turning completely to mush. 

"Am I so bad?" He asked, his breath tickling my skin.

I smirked and turned my lips to his ear, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine. "The worst," I whispered, returning the nip he'd given me earlier. 

A deep chesty growl rumbled against my breast and he let his weight sink into me, our skin melding together. "You'd best not do that, unless you want to walk very strangely for the rest of the day."

Undaunted, I nuzzled my nose against his ear, nipping it again, a little harder. "Who says I want to get out of bed at all?"

In a flash, his fingers were around my chin and forced my eyes to his. I sucked in a shocked breath; the darkness in them hardened and spread like a storm, smoldering with desire and danger. "Is that a dare?" He rasped, smoothing his hand from my chin up to my cheek, his skin shifting from heated to freezing and back again. I shuddered. Why did I keep forgetting how absolutely alien he was? 

As his thumb brushed over my mouth, a wild impulse seized me and I leaned up a little, catching the digit in my mouth, my front teeth barely sinking into the soft pad. I felt his whole body tense up, like he'd been turned to stone, a hiss of air issuing through his teeth. Releasing him, I let out my shaky breath and turned my face into his hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. "What if it is?"

In response to my question, his hand softened, his eyes going silken and gentle. Slowly, he rose up and settled between my knees, dragging both hands down my torso before lowering his mouth to my breast. "You're playing a dangerous game, my dear. What's gotten into you?" He murmured, twirling his tongue around on my skin. 

"Mmmph...most recently, you," I groaned, laughing nervously at my own quip through the new rise of tingles awakening in my body. 

He grinned up at me through his dark, tousled hair. "Who are you, and what have you done with Cassidy?" He asked, his voice languidly amused, but I could hear the burr of desire in it. 

"What have _you_ done with Cassidy?" My teasing question suddenly sent a wave of unease through me, shooing away the mists of lust I was getting lost in. The doubts and questions from the night before began popping up like weeds, twining around the lovely sensations until they choked them out. 

He'd changed, hadn't he? Before he was cold, frightening, subtly manipulating my mind and my emotions. But he'd changed.

No, I had. Right? Before, I was afraid, cautious, fighting hard against his insidious attacks on my emotions. I knew it was manipulation, but I took it anyway. And now I could feel what was true, the nuances of darkness guiding me to what was right.

**Right?**

Dark's face sharpened, drawing back from me just a little. "Cassidy?"

My body wriggled involuntarily, trying to put distance where it didn't belong. I took a very deep breath, telling my nerves to shut up and my voice to speak up. "I...I hate to stop this...it feels great, but...I need to...you need to...could you get up?" 

"I could," he answered, his voice still holding onto some amusement although his face gave away no emotion. 

Pulling in another deep breath, I focused on his eyes, knowing they would hold me long enough to keep my mind steady. "What's happened Dark? Between us, I mean."

Dark cocked his head curiously. "Are we sharing secrets?"

Exasperation huffed through my nose. What was there about my simple, mortal mind that this guy didn't know? He held all the cards and I had no other course than to fold. "As if I even have any secrets left..." 

My grumbling words were cut off as he scooped his arms under my own and sat up with me, my legs spread a little awkwardly over his hips. He settled me against the headboard rested his hands on my thighs, unmoving as he studied me. "There's plenty I could know about you by now. Perhaps I chose not to know." His smile grew to see my confusion and his hands slipped up to my waist, pulling me a little closer. "What's the fun in plundering all your mind has to offer, when I could gently ply it from you? I'm nothing if not a patient being. Mysteries...secrets...forbidden knowledge...that is what a shade craves more than anything."

What.

The.

Fuck?

What did that mean?

From the very start of this crazy trip of ours, he'd shown me that he was always in control and that I was merely a limited font of information that he could use to influence me. All the way from his use of Mark's videos to his impossible knowledge of my old nickname, my mind was his library. Why in the world did I have any reason to believe that he honestly needed me to-

" _Cassidy..."_

Shhhhiiiit...that velvet whisper. I felt the energy in my bones run out in a steady rush, sapping my strength out so much that I had to rest my head against his shoulder. It just wasn't fair. Every time I found myself able to form up any sort of defense against him, all he had to do was speak to me, or touch me, or even just reach out with that gentle sublimation into my soul. Then, I was powerless...

"You are not powerless, Cassidy. If you could only know the strength that I do." His hand fell against my hair in smooth, rhythmic stokes. The air pulsed in gentle vibrations, from my heart to my bones all the way to my core. "The strength that you could have..." I picked up my head and looked at him. His eyes flicked down to the black rose on my stomach and I ended up looking down too. 

_Shit, I must have strength if I took all that last night,_ I thought, certain my cheeks were glowing like fire from how hot they felt. A flare of lust licked up my spine, stirring the embers of the fire we'd been building. Maybe questions could wait...

"No." His denial of my line of thought hit me like a dash of cold water and I snapped my eyes back up to his. In the depths of his black eyes, I could still see the heat of his own desire, but it was a low, soft burn. A corner of his mouth quirked up before he leaned forward and pressed it to my forehead. "As much as I would love to fulfill your delightful musings...there is time for that later. You need answers. I have them. Do you want them?"

The last bit of distraction fell away, all thoughts of physical satisfaction flying off to make room for the absolute hunger for the truth. If he was truly going to give me the knowledge I'd needed from the beginning, I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by. "Yes. I want answers. This strength...what are you offering me?" Dark's brow furrowed for a second, then he smothered it in a smug smile. That flicker of emotion told me volumes of what lay before me. It wasn't going to be all fun and games. Not like before. But I needed it. "I need it," I reiterated, sure that he heard me the first time, but I had to say it for myself.

"I know you do," he murmured, wrapping his arms around me, his cheek resting on the top of my head. I laid mine against his chest, smiling softly. It was almost too good to be true. This sly, secretive man, perfectly happy with keeping me wondering and fearing, was going to reveal some kind of forbidden knowledge to me. To me. Don't get me wrong. I've got a great self-image, but as he'd told me so many times before, I was mundane. I was a mortal in contrast to his otherworldly status. And he was going to do this for me. 

I barely felt the passage through the sheets...through the fabric of my world...into the darkness...

\--

Everything felt soft and slithery as we descended, endless curtains of silk caressing my body like loving hands. I felt his arms too, securely holding me to his chest. We were still seated together, our legs entwined. My eyes were wide open, but I couldn't see him. I saw nothing but darkness. A wriggling fear invaded my stomach and the memory of the horrible emptiness of the Voidrealm flooded back into me. And then it was gone. As soon as I acknowledged it, it fled. This was not the same place, because I knew it better than before. It wasn't deathly silent or unnaturally still—a place of stasis that I was a stranger to. I wasn't immured in a choking coffin of blackness. Now it was merely quiet and calm. Peaceful. Natural. 

My hypersensitive nerves felt the presence of a floor before we touched it. It was soft and forgiving, like settling onto a cushion or a rich carpet. A mild intrusion of light opened in the blackness to reveal a dim silhouette. The soft illumination played along his face in gradients of shadow. "Quite different than your first visit, isn't it?"

We sat there in silence for a few moments as I considered his question. Closing my eyes, I let the sensations of the world permeate me, savoring and sampling the subtleties of the atmosphere. It felt like a great welcoming embrace. It felt like his arms. They tightened around me almost as quickly as I thought it. "It feels kind of comfy." My body melted against him, peace and security rolling through me as he laid a kiss into my hair. 

"Welcome home, Cassidy."

Craning my head back up, I gave him a curious look. "Home?"

"It's as much yours as it is mine." Dark drew his finger down my spine and I arched forward against him. A deep hum resonated from his chest into me. "You feel it, don't you?"

Biting my lip, I held back a groan. How did he expect me to feel anything but him at this point? But I did. Somewhere in the corners of my hearing, soothing whispers echoed all around me. I couldn't begin to understand the words, but somehow I knew it was a whispered fanfare to my presence. "Home," I said quietly, mulling the thought over in my head. A home away from home? An escape from whatever might bother me in the real world? Perhaps that was unfair, deeming my world the "real" one. This world, this realm had every bit of the trueness, the tangible reality of mine. It was still incredibly strange and unknown, but I was learning. I was acclimating. It could be mine. 

And I wanted it.

Dark's arms squeezed in, his embrace becoming more constricting. "You must know what I'm asking of you as much as what I'm offering. I can't promise that everything will be easy or even enjoyable."

I chuckled. "Sounds like life to me." 

He answered my laugh with his own. There was a dead, calm numbness at the end of it. "Beyond life. Beyond death."

"Wha-"

The time I had for questions was over and a stinging cold wind enveloped me, the feeling of his arms and his body just gone. Torn between reaching for him and protecting my exposed skin from the biting cold, I balled up into a tight little knot and squeezed my eyes shut. The wind pulled and pushed on all sides of my body, careening me through the endless expanse. "Damn you! GODDAMN YOU DARK! You said no more games!"

My scream cut the wind off at its source, turning the air dead and still around me. Something had changed. I felt gravity, felt a normalization in the atmosphere, but I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes and face it. My feet touched on something hard but unstable. A subtle breeze danced across my skin. 

"This isn't a game," Dark's voice boomed around me. It wasn't in my head this time. He was around here somewhere. "This...is a lesson. So you'll know just what you're asking of me. So you'll know what can happen when someone delves into something so far beyond them."

My arms unlocked from my sides, instinctively reaching my hands out and feeling about for any clue as to what happened. 

Ropes. On either side of wherever I stood, there was a railing of taut, worn out rope. I grabbed on and gripped for all I was worth. My eyelid peeked up a little and pressed shut again. I didn't want to look. "Then why let me?" I yelled. "If I'm not meant for this, why put me through it?"

"I never said you weren't mean for this. But it's still more than you can fully understand, and you deserve the chance to know the stakes." Blinded by my own fear, I couldn't dare a look around to search for him, but I heard so much in his voice. Solemnity, apprehension, anticipation. Even now, thrown into some insane situation, when I wanted to be pissed off at him, I felt strangely...ready. Maybe it was the horrific scenarios he'd subjected me to, or the fact that we'd become physically closer. Maybe I was going crazy and this was becoming normal to me. Whatever the reason, I had no impulse in me to say no or beg him to send me home. 

The ground swayed beneath me. The breeze picked up and raised gooseflesh on my limbs. 

I opened my eyes.


End file.
